


Fate

by NikkiNoir



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Drinking, Eventual Smut, Fluff, M/M, Major Character Injury, Masturbation, Possible Character Death, Smooching, major character getting his ass handed to him, man tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-18
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 05:11:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 56,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1141839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikkiNoir/pseuds/NikkiNoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Kevin dead and Sam gone, Dean is left alone and broken, until Castiel shows up and everything starts to spiral out of control. Their fate is set before them, the only thing they can do is follow the path, one step at a time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stale Lucky Charms and Scotch

**Author's Note:**

> Note 1: This is my first fic contribution to the Supernatural/Destiel fandom.
> 
> Note 2: This fic takes place right after the mid-season finale of season 9 (Holy Terror). Some mentioning of canon events up until that point, but anything past Holy Terror won't be included in this fic because I started writing it during the hiatus and got too involved to bin it.

It had been a week since the Angel took off in Sam's body. A week since the Angel killed Kevin. A week since Cas managed to get his mojo back. One week, seven days. It was unbelievable how so much could change in such a short period of time. 

Dean hadn't left the bunker; hell, he hardly bothered to leave his bed, even to eat and bathe. There was no point to it. No point to anything anymore. He had failed everyone he cared about and there was no fixing it this time. He was alone and couldn't help but assume he deserved it. 

It was Tuesday, or maybe it was Thursday. Dean wasn't even sure if only a week had passed. He laid on his back, staring at the ceiling of his room. His stomach groaned with hunger, but sitting up required more effort than he was willing to exert. Sighing, he closed his eyes and replayed the ten minute span of Kevin being murdered and the Angel revealing that Sam was no longer Sam. There was no stopping the flashback. When he was awake, it played in his head. When he slept, he dreamed about it. He couldn't think of anything else. It was etched permanently into his mind.

When Dean finally opened his eyes, he glanced at the clock. It had been almost twenty hours since the last time he ate anything, "explains the headache," he mumbled, finally sitting up. He got out of bed and dragged himself to the kitchen. 

The fridge was mostly stocked with cases of beer, so he poked through the cupboards for a box of crackers or even a bag of chips. After a minute or two of rummaging, he settled on a box of stale Lucky Charms. (Sam always insisted that Lucky Charms was the only breakfast cereal worth eating.) He grabbed the box and trudged back toward his room. As he passed the basement door, he heard a banging noise, and suddenly remembered that he wasn't alone in the bunker. Crowley was still tied up in the dungeon. It had been well over a week since he'd gone down there. Whoops.

"He's going to be pissed," Dean said to himself, almost smiling as he walked back to the kitchen to grab a glass and the bottle of Craig's he kept just in case he had to bribe the former king of Hell. 

Somewhat reluctantly he opened the basement door and the banging stopped, but was followed immediately by Crowley's familiar voice, "hello boys," he chimed, false cheerfulness dripping from his voice; Dean opened the dungeon and walked in. Crowley sat, stuck in the devil's trap, behind the table, glaring at Dean, "forget I was here, did you?" he asked, eyeing the bottle of scotch. He looked ravenous, and dark circles hung low under his eyes.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Dean put the bottle on the table, "it was a busy week."

"Oh?" the demon looked intrigued, cocking an eyebrow as he spoke, "Where's your moose?" he glanced behind Dean, "And what about your boyfriend?"

Dean ignored him and poured a glass of scotch, pushing it toward Crowley, who took it and smelled it before taking a sip, "Don't play dumb with me, Crowley," he mumbled, putting the box of old cereal on the table.

"Missed something, have I?" Crowley asked in a mockingly innocent voice, reaching for the Lucky Charms.  
Dean pulled up a chair and sat down, "That's not why I came down here. I don't want to talk about it."

"You're the one who pulled up a chair, sweetheart," Crowley narrowed his eyes, "something happened, didn't it? I'm bloody well cut off down here. Judging by your bitchy aura, I'm going to make a guess and say it was either moose or your boyfriend," he shoveled a handful of stale cereal into his mouth, making a disgusted face as he did so, "you couldn't bring me anything a little less stale?" he scowled at Dean.

"Shut the hell up," Dean snapped.

"So boyfriend AND Moose," Crowley nodded, sitting back in his hair, continuing to eat bits of marshmallows from the box, cringing with eat bite, "tell me, Dean, did you really think everything would turn out all peachy keen by letting an angel inside your brother?"

Dean froze, wide-eyed, "how'd you know that?"

"I'm a demon, you moron," Crowley reached for his glass of scotch, "you think I couldn't sense that angel in your brother?" 

"I just assumed that since you never said anything-"

"Why would I bother pissing you two off? I'm the one locked in your bloody basement," Crowley rolled his eyes, "I always like to see how things play out between you boys. You'll forever be a main source of entertainment."

"Sorry to disappoint you, but Sam's dead. So, that's how it played out," Dean said before he could stop himself, or the tears threatening to spill out. He didn't cry. And if he did, he certainly wouldn't break down in front of this bag of dicks. He looked away from Crowley, taking a deep breath to gather himself, "Kevin too," he added, staring down at his knees, giving up any hope of controlling his emotions. He wished in this moment he was Vulcan. Spock wouldn't cry like a pussy in front of a demon. 

Crowley watched Dean, interested. Sure, he was a demon, but in a way he had a soft spot for those bloody Winchester boys, the stupid angel and even the prophet. For the first time in a long time, he was genuinely speechless. A feeling in the pit of his stomach made him feel uneasy. It couldn't possibly be sympathy. He was a demon and demons just didn't have those sort of feelings; he made a mental note to lay off purified human blood.

Dean finally looked at Crowley, who was still staring at him, "what?"

"You haven't told me about my old friend Castiel, how is he?" he asked, almost cautiously, a part of him hoping that Dean would get angry and stop the wretched blubbering. Seeing Dean crying made him feel much more uncomfortable than it should have- well, Dean wasn't exactly crying but it was certainly going to turn into a chick flick moment if he couldn't piss him off quick. 

"None of your fucking business," Dean got up, and walked out of the dungeon, slamming the door as hard as he could before going up to the main bunker. He vaguely heard Crowley say something to extent of "temper, temper," as he slammed the door. 

Dean didn't know why he bothered going down to Crowley. He knew it was a terrible decision, but he went down anyway. In the back of his mind he thought that maybe Crowley would offer some kind of support. He knew the bastard had a soft spot for him and Sam, whether he openly admitted it or not, but now he felt even worse than ever. Particularly because of the prick mentioning not only Cas but also Sam. And the pain from losing Kevin was ever present which didn't help matters in the least. 

Cas had been missing in action since he called to let Dean know he had some mojo. Dean assumed he was gone for good this time. Cas knew Kevin and Sam were dead and for all Dean knew, Cas could be dead. It's not like he'd contacted Dean recently. Then again, why would he come back? Dean knew he was bad luck for Cas, and was almost glad he hadn't shown up. 

Almost.

That didn't stop him from praying though.


	2. Blueberries and Sin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel finally shows up, surprising the hell out of Dean. Naturally, Dean copes with the shock by drinking.

The fridge was fully stocked with enough booze to last the apocalypse. Dean grabbed a bottle of cheap beer and twisted the cap off too fast, causing the foam to overflow onto the floor. He sighed irritably and stepped over the puddle, downing half the beer in one go as he walked out to the study. Flashbacks of his last night with Kevin and Sam hit him so hard he nearly dropped the bottle. He bit his lip, fighting the memories as he took as seat, setting the beer down on the table, taking a deep breath to calm himself. 

It was so eerily quiet in the bunker with everyone gone, "I would even take Cas watching porn at this point," he mumbled, picking at the label on the bottle, "Where the hell are you, Cas? I know you can hear me, you dick," he scowled to himself, "Why am I even bothering?" he swiped at the bottle in a quick fit of rage, knocking it to the floor, causing it to smash into a puddle of glass shards and cheap beer.

"Hello Dean."

The voice caught Dean by surprise; he flipped out of the chair, and landed on the marble floor, but not before smacking his forehead on the edge of the table, "fuck!" he yelled, holding his head, cringing in pain. Immediately he felt familiar arms around him.

"Dean, are you alright?" Cas' voice was soft, concerned. He helped Dean up.

"No, I'm not freaking alright," he looked at Cas, "where the hell have you been? Actually, I don't care. I don't want to know," he touched the welt on his head and looked at his fingers, not entirely surprised to see blood. He hit the table hard and felt a little dizzy.

"Let me help you," Cas went to touch Dean's forehead but Dean swatted his hand away, "Dean..."

"Piss off," Dean said, glaring at Cas, "I don't want your help."

"I'm sorry, Dean," Cas looked like a sad puppy. Dean swore he did it on purpose. He always gave "the look" when he wanted forgiveness because he knew Dean would forgive him, or at least Dean assumed Cas knew perfectly well that "the look" was Dean's weakness. 

"Don't do that," Dean groaned, wiping the blood off his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt, flinching a bit from the pain.

"Do what?" Cas raised an eyebrow.

"That look," Dean stood up, wavering a little and sat back down. He assumed he was concuss. Wonderful. As if things couldn't get any better.

"What look?" Cas sat down next to Dean, his face concerned. 

"That sad freaking puppy look you give me every freaking time you know I'm mad," Dean scowled at him, "one day it's not going to work."

"How do puppies look sad?" Cas cocked his head to the side, "I don't understand."

"Never mind," Dean reached across the table for a tissue, dabbing it lightly on the cut, "Why are you even here, Cas?"

"I..." Cas frowned, "I do care, you know. About you, and Sam and Kevin."

"They're dead, Cas."

"But you're not," Cas stared at Dean, "and I stand by what I just said. I've just been trying to help."

"Help? How? By ignoring me? That didn't help, Cas."

"I was trying to find your brother and Metatron," Cas explained, "I found out Metatron is behind all of this and I was trying to find them before they got to you, Dean."

"Wait a minute, Metatron is behind everything?" Dean asked incredulously.

"Who do you think gave the Angel possessing your brother orders to kill Kevin?" Cas leaned closer to Dean, "Where do you think Sam had been going? It wasn't to the store." 

"Dammit," Dean crumpled up the tissue, "I should have known not to trust an angel dick." 

"We're not all bad, Dean," Cas frowned.

"You're not all perfect either," Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, "I think I need to lay down."

"Are you sure you don't want me to help?" Cas didn't dare touch Dean without permission. 

"Help me to my bed. I'm really freaking dizzy. I just need to lay down," Dean started to get up and Cas followed his lead, putting his arm around Dean's waist to support his weight. With Cas' help, Dean got to his room and flopped down on his bed. Cas stood next to the bed watching him grab a bottle of unmarked, clear liquor from under a pillow, "Don't make me drink alone. There's beer in the fridge," Dean took the cap off the bottle and took a few gulps.

Cas disappeared only momentarily and reappeared holding a beer, "Are you sure you're going to be alright, Dean?" he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed, "I'd feel better if you'd let me-"

"No, Cas," Dean cut him off, "I'll be fine. It's just a bump. Nothing a little Everclear can't help with," he offered the bottle to Cas, "have a shot."

Cas took the bottle and smelled it, "Dean this smells like pure rubbing alcohol."

"Then don't drink it. Give it back," Dean snatched the bottle back and took another swig, "Ah, ninety-five percent alcohol by volume."

"I can hear your liver dying," Cas took a sip of his own beer, "your drinking habits are getting out of control."

"This is only for emergencies," Dean propped himself up against his pillows, "you know, like headaches, angels and family deaths."

"I don't think that will help any of those things," Cas said bluntly.

"Come on, Cas. Can you stop being such a prude and just drink with me tonight? Let's get wasted and pretend everything doesn't suck," Dean could feel his head swimming in a mixture of booze and concussion. 

"You want me to stay?" Cas asked, picking at the label of his beer, before taking a few large sips, "I thought you were upset."

"Yeah, I'm upset, but," Dean took a deep breath and exhaled, "but dammit Cas, I'm glad you're here." he said quickly before taking to the bottle again, "There. I said it."

Cas smiled awkwardly, "I'll stay as long as I can," he said cryptically, "but, can I please help with your head? I think you have a concussion."

Dean sighed, defeated, "fine," he leaned forward and Cas gently touched the welt, instantly healing it, leaving only the feeling of warmth and intoxication behind, "happy?"

"Very," Cas finished his beer and set the bottle down on the floor before making himself comfortable, sitting Indian style at the foot of Dean's bed.

"So, now that you have your mojo back, can you even get hammered?" Dean asked, putting the cap back on the Everclear and stashing it in his nightstand drawer, grabbing a flask in it's place. 

"I'm not sure," Cas said, genuinely unsure, "my cheeks are warm. So, I'm assuming it is a definite possibility." 

"Good," Dean gave the flask to Cas, "you'll like that," Dean reached under his mattress and pulled out an eighth of high-proof whiskey, "I'll stick to my Wild Turkey."

"That is not a turkey, Dean," Cas unscrewed the cap of the flask and took a sip, coughing, "my throat is on fire," he croaked, "what is this?"

"Pure Mississippi moonshine," Dean grinned, "tastes like blueberries and sin."

"Sin does not have a flavor," Cas took another sip and cringed, "but if it did, this would be it."

Dean snorted with laughter, unable to contain himself in his drunken stupor, "Do you even listen to yourself, Cas?" he said, almost in tears from laughing. He hadn't laughed this hard in weeks, let alone smile. Cas may bring out the worst in him, but he brought out the best too. 

"I was being logical," Cas couldn't help smiling, "stop laughing," he hit Dean's foot playfully. Buzzed Cas was so far from Castiel, an Angel of the Lord, that Dean snorted again.

"You're almost human when you're drinking, Cas. It's hilarious," Dean took a long swing from his bottle and put it on the nightstand, "do you mind if I put on some music? I need background noise," he slid off the bed and flipped open Sam's laptop, which he'd taken to using since it's owner was no longer in the picture, "here we go," a guitar riff filled the air and Dean turned back to Cas, "drinking music," he said with a cheeky grin. 

Cas listened intently for a minute, ignoring Dean as he climbed back on the bed, "Dean...a car doesn't have American thighs...and why is it shaking him all night long?" his eyes grew wide, "Is this how you feel about your car?" he asked, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. 

"What? No!" Dean choked on the sip of Wild Turkey he'd just taken, coughing.

"It's a metaphor then?" Cas eyed his flask for a moment, debating on another sip, "For sexual intercourse."

"Okay!" Dean got up again, "We're not listening to this," his cheeks were burning. _Who even says sexual intercourse. Fucking Cas._ He quickly changed the song, and ironically enough "Stairway to Heaven" came on, and he couldn't bring himself to change it.

"That song was sung by the same band who sing those songs about hell," it wasn't a question, Cas was trying to chat. Dean smiled to himself before turning back, "Dean?"

"Yeah?" Dean joined Cas, once again, on the bed. 

"Is all the music you listen to about sexual intercourse and sinning?" Cas asked, finally taking another swig from the flask, contorting his face in the process.

Dean was thoughtful for a moment, pretending Cas didn't just mention sexual intercourse again, "yeah, I guess it is," he shrugged, "why?"

A smiled played the corners of Cas' lips, "I'm just taking an interest," he said, "chatting," he added in an afterthought.

"Chatting," Dean smirked, "since when do you chat?"

"Since you handed me this moonshine," Cas took another pull from the flask, cringing again, "I will never understand your love for this stuff."

"It helps you forget," Dean stretched out on his back, folding his arms behind his head like a pillow, "and sometimes I just need to pretend reality isn't there, you know?" he looked at Cas, "Not that sitting here with you right now isn't great, but I just mean-"

"You want to stop thinking about Sam and Kevin for now," Cas said, nodding, "I understand."

"You do?" Dean gave Cas a quizzical look, "I thought you couldn't process feelings."

"I was and remain at least partly human, Dean," Cas put the cover on the flask and handed it back to Dean, "I understand wanting to forget about those you love," he made eye contact with Dean, trying to make his point clear, "I wanted to forget about those I missed. I wanted to forget everything when I fell."

"But you couldn't," Dean said quietly, putting the cap on his bottle, "Cas, are you alright?" he stomach churned nervously under the gaze of the bluest eyes he'd ever seen, only now realizing how selfish he was being. He didn't even think to look at everything from Cas' point of view. 

Cas stared at him, a range of emotions flickering across his face before he finally spoke, softly and almost affectionate, "I am now."

Dean's cheeks were burning, and Cas staring at him wasn't helping. His brain was shutting down. He was too drunk to deal with any emotional bullshit right now. When it came to Cas, he was already confused. On one hand, he was a lady's man but at the same time, Cas had this pull on him. A pull that was full of pent up emotional and sexual frustration that Dean tried to ignore. But, alas, every time Cas showed up it was back. And everyone noticed it. (Sam so kindly pointed it out on more than one occasion.)

Cas sat quietly, enjoying the companionable silence and watching Dean's inner debate. He could easily read Dean's mind, but he didn't want to pry. His head was swimming and he couldn't recall a time when he felt so content; getting drunk with Dean in his bedroom like a couple of regular people. Cas smiled at the thought, but mostly because Dean had this affect on him. Dean made him happy, or what he assumed happy meant, because the feeling wasn't there when he was away from Dean, and it only came to him when he thought of Dean. It was always Dean. He sighed and stretched out his legs, accidentally brushing his foot against Dean's leg.

Dean glanced down at Cas' foot, but didn't make an effort to move until he spoke, "you want another beer?" he asked, rolling onto his side to face Cas.

"Sure," Cas felt a twinge of loneliness as Dean left the room, but he told himself that it was only for a moment and he relaxed a little. Ever since he lost Dean, he'd been on edge about losing him again. Which was something he knew he couldn't handle. Not since he became human. All the emotions toyed at him, and he didn't realize Dean had returned.

"Earth to Cas," Dean said, holding a beer in front of Cas' face.

Cas blinked, coming back to the present, "hello Dean," he said, taking the beer.

"Hey Cas," Dean grinned, clinking his bottle against Cas', "cheers, you light weight," he drank the whole beer in one go and pulled a small bottle of Jagermeister out of his back pocket before climbing over Cas' legs to flop down on the bed.

"Light weight?" Cas looked at the bottle of beer in his hands, "I could take you."

"Not in drinking," Dean chuckled, tracing the rubber of Cas' shoe with his finger, "but you got spunk. I like that," he pulled at the shoelace, "it's rude to wear shoes on someone's bed, Cas," he added jokingly. 

Cas toed his shoes off and kicked them on the floor, "it's rude to, uh..." he lost his words and laughed.

"It's rude to uh?" Dean snorted.

"Yes! It's rude to laugh at a house guest," Cas said, proud of his comeback as he took a long drag from his beer, which made Dean laugh ever harder. Dean's laughter made Cas smile. His intention was to make Dean happy again, and he hoped it was working. It was certainly off to a good start. 

"You're drunk," Dean said, his cheeks rosy with intoxication, "you're sooo drunk," Dean leaned over to his night stand and pulled out two shot glasses, "let me fix that," he said shooting a mischievous glance at Cas before pouring two shots of the Jager he just acquired from the kitchen. He handed one to Cas, "this will help."

"How is more alcohol going to help?" Cas took the shot glass and stared at Dean, a shot in one hand and his half-finished beer in the other.

"I never thought I'd see an Angel doublefisting alcoholic beverages," Dean was almost giggling as he pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of Cas making a funny face and looking particularly drunk with his doublefisting of drinks, "this is going to be my background," he mused, tossing the phone aside so he could grab his shot, "here's to...uh...here's to..." 

"Us," Cas offered, raising his shot glass to Dean, who smiled and raised his as well. The dark liquor tasted vile and made Cas gag, "what is this?" he asked, crinkling his nose.

"Some good, old fashioned Jager. Tastes just like licorice," Dean licked the remnants of liquor off his lips, freezing when he saw   
Cas looking at his lips, "so, uh," he lost his train of thought, and looked over at the bottle of Wild Turkey he'd abandoned on the night stand. 

Cas didn't drop his gaze, "I think you've had enough," he said cautiously, "I didn't come here to babysit," he finished off his beer and put the empty bottle on the floor.

"You sound like Sam," Dean said, frowning, a twinge of pain twisting in his stomach as he mentioned Sam, "way to be a buzzkill," Sure, he was drunk. He was actually really, really drunk. But he also didn't want Cas pointing it out. It always bothered Dean when Cas did little things to let him know he cared about him. He didn't like when people cared about him; it was his job to care for people, not vice versa. He wasn't worth caring about. He would only let them down. 

"That wasn't my intention," Cas murmured, finally looking down at the patterned duvet, "I just worry," he admitted, unable to stop himself from saying it. He always worried about Dean, but he never openly said so because he knew Dean would reject it. Cas wasn't vocal about a lot of things, but his mind was always in overdrive fretting about Dean. They had a profound bond whether either of them would admit it; they were definitely aware of it either way.

"You shouldn't," Dean nudged Cas' leg with his foot, half-smiling, "you have more important things to do than waste time and energy on me, Cas. You pulled me out of the pit and that's more than I could ask from anyone," he sighed happily, feeling warm and fuzzy from the amount of hard liquor he'd just consumed, "you're too good to me."

"You're just as important as anything else," Cas shrugged, looking at Dean's foot resting against his leg, "you shouldn't put yourself down like that, Dean," he glanced at Dean, who had shut his eyes and was smiling contently.

"I'm being honest," Dean opened one eye, "why you pulled me out of the pit is still a mystery." 

"I told you I was under orders," Cas shifted so he was sitting against the wall, hugging his knees. He rested his chin on his knees, "I pulled you from the pit because it was necessary."

"But you also disobeyed orders," Dean remembered, sitting up to scoot next to Cas, "you never told me how you disobeyed," he picked at a loose string on his pants, "are you going to tell me or am I going to have to force it out of you?" he asked, smirking with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Cas closed his eyes, "my orders were to go to Hell and destroy your soul," he whispered in a gravelly voice, "but when I saw you in there, I made a different call."

Dean felt a lump in his throat, "and you saved me instead of obeying orders," he said, trying to keep his voice level as he felt warmth rising up inside him. He never realized that Cas had put so much on the line for him, for a second he thought he was going to cry. That is until the wave of nausea hit him, "oh fuck, I'm going to be sick," he covered his mouth and stumbled off the bed, making a less-than-sober beeline to his bathroom, barely making it to the toilet in time. 

Dean dry heaved a few times before the liquor burbled up, burning his throat on it's way to the porcelain throne. I'm never mixing Everclear and beer again, he thought, coughing wetly into the toilet. His head was spinning, along with the rest of the bathroom. Closing his eyes, he rested his chin on the toilet seat. He made the executive decision to sleep right here, until he felt a warm hand touch the shoulder where Castiel had touched him in the pit.

"Dean," Cas knelt down next to him, unsure of what to say. 

"I'm fine," Dean grumbled, gagging again before more fire-water came up.

Cas didn't say anything else, he moved so he could sit on the edge of the bathtub. For a while he rubbed Dean's back while he sputtered and heaved into the toilet. When Dean went several minutes without getting sick, Cas helped him sit up against the tub. Immediately, Dean rested his head on Cas' thigh, sighing.

"Sorry Cas," he croaked, exhaling softly, "for everything."

Cas absentmindedly played with a few strands of Dean's hair, shushing him, "you should sleep, Dean," he smiled when Dean leaned into his touch, "they say water helps with drunkenness. Do you want water?"

"I want to brush my freaking teeth," Dean chuckled airily, "but I'm not standing yet," he added, his voice slurring. 

Cas continued playing with Dean's hair, not fully realizing he was doing it. Sitting with Dean so close felt almost natural, Cas didn't give it a second thought. He reached into the tub and grabbed a face cloth, turning the tap on for a moment to wet it, "this'll help," Cas handed Dean the cool, damp cloth so he could wipe his face.

"Thanks Cas," Dean sat up; he held the wet cloth against his burning face, leaning back into Cas. 

Cas felt a strange sensation in his stomach. It wasn't sickness, in fact, it was almost a giddy feeling; like a thousand butterflies were fighting to break free from inside him. He wondered what this feeling was, but didn't ask Dean. Instead he leaned down and kissed the top of Dean's head. Dean said nothing, and neither did he.


	3. Drunken Words Are Sober Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has a tendency to get carried away when he's drunk, fortunately Cas is drunk too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are those idiots going to kiss yet?!
> 
> Yes. Definitely.

After an hour or so Dean was half asleep, breathing calmly with his head resting on Cas' lap. Cas still stroked Dean's hair, humming softly to himself, feeling totally at peace. It didn't matter the setting. Whenever he was with Dean, he didn't feel as alone. Sure, he had hundreds of siblings, but none of them made him feel the way Dean did. To his brothers and sisters, he was disposable for rescuing Dean, but to Dean, he knew he wasn't worthless. 

"Dean, maybe you should sleep in your bed. It's much softer than marble," Cas said trying to coax Dean awake.  
Dean mumbled something unintelligible and hugged Cas' leg, gripping at the fabric of his trousers.

"Come on, Dean," Cas sat Dean up, loosening his grip from his trousers, "time for you to get some sleep," he leaned forward and put Dean's arm around his shoulders and helped him up. Dean was dead weight. Smiling, amused, Cas picked Dean completely up, with hardly any effort, and walked him to the bedroom, gently setting him on the bed, "get some rest, Dean," he turned to leave but stopped when he heard his name.

"Cas," Dean looked at Cas through heavy-lidded eyes, "don't leave."

Cas cocked his head to the side, "you want me to stay," this wasn't a question, of course he knew Dean wanted him to stay. Dean always wanted Cas around. And if it was up to Cas, he would always be with Dean. 

"Bed, now," Dean scooted over, closer to the wall, leaving a space more than adequate for Cas, "sleep," he grinned as he pat the bed, smiling drunkenly at Cas.

Despite having some Grace returned to him, sleep did sound tempting to Cas. He'd become fond of sleeping while he was human. Dean stared at him expectantly, and he stammered over words when he spoke, "but pajamas," was all he managed to say, and Dean laughed.

"Boxers," Dean suggested, realizing he was still wearing his jeans, "boxers are pajamas," he mused to himself, kicking off his jeans into a rumpled pile at the bottom of his bed, leaving him in a t-shirt and some tacky Captain America boxers, "there. Pajamas," he hugged a pillow, still watching Cas standing in the middle of his room. 

Cas finally strolled over to the bed and sat down, "are you sure that's acceptable?"

"Cas," Dean sounded annoyed, "who cares? It's comfy and better than slacks."

Cas smiled to himself, careful to not let Dean see him, "you don't mind sharing a bed? There are other rooms here."

"Don't leave me," Dean whispered, sounding almost desperate, "please, Cas. I can't be alone again," his voice was on the verge of cracking. He didn't care if Cas was a dude, he didn't care if he tended to prefer women, he wanted to be next to someone he cared about. He didn't have anyone at this point. Cas was like a precious commodity, and he refused to lose him. Even in his inebriated state, he knew he was thinking clearly, but the lack of sobriety made him more courageous to suggest a sleepover.

Cas nodded and slipped off his white collared shirt, tie and trousers, leaving his t-shirt and silky boxers on, he looked at Dean for approval, and got an affectionate smile, "Dean, I-"

"Shut up," Dean tugged at the hem of Cas' t-shirt, "just lay down and relax. I'm too tired to argue."

"But the lights," Cas went to get up, but Dean yanked at his t-shirt.

"Cas," Dean warned, "stop being a pain in the ass."

"But-"

"Watch this," Dean let go and clapped his hands, causing the light to go out, "the Clapper," he chuckled to himself, "a lazy man's dream appliance."

"The inventions human's come up with never ceases to amaze me," unable to resist, Cas claps the lights on and off a few times, before Dean hit him with a pillow, "sorry," he mumbled, finally laying on his back next to Dean. Exhaling, he began to relax against the soft pillow that smelled of Dean, his eyes shut and he was smiling again. This was the happiest he'd been in such a long time, he wished time would slow down.

The room was quiet and dark, the only sound was Dean's steady breathing and the occasional creak of the mattress. Cas couldn't sleep, he was mesmerized by the sound of Dean sleeping. Cautiously he rolled onto his side and moved closer to Dean, "Dean," he whispered. There was no response, "Dean?" he whispered again, and when Dean didn't stir, he draped his arm around the sleeping man and pulled him close to his chest, resting his chin on the top of Dean's head. 

Cas rubbed circles on Dean's back with his thumb, but froze when he felt Dean mumble something. Without warning, Dean wrapped him arms around Cas, hugging him close, nuzzling into his t-shirt before starting to snore. Cas held his breath, not sure what was happening, but relaxed a little when Dean loosened his grip on the t-shirt.

When Cas moved his hand to cup the back of Dean's neck, stroking Dean's soft hair with his thumb, taking in the scent of Dean's hair. It smelled like strawberries, which made Cas almost chuckle. He didn't expect Dean to smell anything less than masculine, but there it was, the smell of strawberries tickling his nose. He pressed a light kiss into Dean's hair, "I love you, Dean Winchester," he breathed, unable to stop the words from escaping. 

Dean tightened his grip on Cas again, "love you," he mumbled, his words muddled with sleep. His voice was so soft that Cas wasn't even sure it had happened, that is, until he felt Dean's stubbly lips press against his throat, causing him to swallow loudly. Dean snorted and did it again just to get a reaction, but this time Cas moved his hand to Dean's chin tilting his head up.

"Dean," Cas' muttered, pressing his forehead against Dean's, "are you awake?" he asked, wondering if this was all a dream. 

"Mhm," Dean swung his leg around Cas' waist.

"You said you..." Cas stopped himself from repeating what Dean had just said, knowing Dean might very well change his mind. Dean wasn't one for emotions. 'Love' simply wasn't in his vocabulary. It was also a word that Cas never openly said because he didn't know the meaning of it until he met Dean. Everything was different with Dean. 

"Mhm," Dean murmured, knowing exactly what Cas was talking about. Their noses brushed together at the closeness of the embrace. He was still woozy from all the drinking, but he was awake enough to know where he was, and who he was currently clinging to. Normally, he'd never get this close with a man. He claimed to be Captain Heterosexual, but Cas made him question everything and he was sick of denying himself of the feelings. Cas was all he had left. He had to man up. 

"Are you sure?" Cas was unsure of himself. He didn't want to push boundaries. Dean had a tendency to shut down when any kind of emotional scenario arose, and Cas refused to let Dean panic and cut him out of his life. Cas wouldn't let Dean be alone anymore. Dean was a top priority, and always had been, regardless of any order given from Heaven. It was always Dean. Dean Winchester, of all people. Cas sighed happily.

Dean didn't answer Cas, instead he affectionately brushed his lips against Cas', barely making contact, teasing. Cas ran his hand, that was cupping Dean's cheek, down Dean's side, resting it on the small of his back, his fingers brushing against the patch of skin revealed from the t-shirt riding up. Dean shivered and moved his hand to Cas' shoulder, pushing Cas onto his back, shifting with him so he was straddling Cas' hips. 

Cas gasped against Dean's lips, freezing, "Dean, what-" 

"Shh," Dean took in the closeness, breathing in Cas' scent- a mixture of soap and fresh air, "just stop thinking," his voice sounded more awake now, and he was positive his pupils were fully dilated and it wasn't just from the darkness of the room. After a moment of hesitation, he pressed his lips into Cas', closing his eyes as he caressed Cas' cheek. 

For a split second Cas didn't move, shocked at this new-found affection, but then he gripped Dean's waist and returned the kiss with such passion that Dean made a growling noise in the back of his throat before running his tongue along Cas' lower lip, nipping at it. Cas "mm'd" in approval as Dean twisted his fingers into Cas' hair, deepening the kiss. 

Dean almost laughed at how cliche it all was; giggles threatened to escape him because he was so genuinely happy that he was almost giddy. They were innocently making out like a couple of love-struck teenagers, and that was hilarious to Dean. At least until Cas flicked his tongue against his, which Dean took as encouragement, pressing as close to Cas as he could manage. They were gripping each other and kissing and touching like it was their last night on Earth; whining and moaning and moving in unison. Dean didn't even realize he'd been grinding against Cas until he noticed Cas was just as hard as he was. Immediately he broke the kiss, causing Cas to drop his grip on Dean, "Dean, are you alright?" he asked, out of breath, "I'm sorry, I-"

Dean rolled off Cas, and curled his hand around Cas' cheek to shush him, "I don't know where that came from," he admitted sheepishly, "I should be the one apologizing, I don't know what got into me," he chuckled, almost nervously, hoping Cas didn't notice how hard he was.

"You don't have to apologize," Cas leaned into Dean's touch, "it was nice," he said, for lack of a better word. It was certainly more than nice, but Cas was wary that Dean had hidden regrets about everything that had just happened. 

"Nice," Dean reiterated, grinning to himself, snuggling up to Cas, "you make me question everything, Cas. You always have. It was more than nice," he pressed a kiss to Cas' shoulder, shifting so he could whisper in Cas' ear, "it was fucking hot," he nipped at Cas' earlobe.

Cas shivered, "a good word for it. I'm sweating," he said awkwardly.

Dean laughed, "you're too literal for your own good, Cas," he kissed Cas' cheek and sat up in the bed, "I'm going to take a shower," he said, feeling sober enough to walk to the bathroom on his own, "I smell." 

"Like cologne," Cas added, sitting up as well, "but your breath is an entirely different story," he added, trying to be cheeky. And couldn't stop himself from beaming when Dean chuckled and punched him playfully.

"My breath usually tastes like mint and bourbon," Dean didn't bother clapping on the lights as he climbed over Cas to get out of bed, "I'll be back in a few," he said, walking out of the room toward the bathroom. 

Dean went into the bathroom; the lights were still on from earlier, and he shut the door behind him. He looked in the mirror, and it was almost like staring at a stranger. The genuine smile on his face, mussed up hair and rosy cheeks were foreign to him. For the first time in he didn't know how long, he not only looked happy, but felt happy too. 

Once the shower was on, Dean stripped off his clothes and stepped into the warm spray, letting the water stream down his face and body. He was still hard as a rock, and couldn't stop himself from quickly taking care of his little problem, before washing his face and hair- he even used some of Sam's girly body wash that Sam claimed was for men. It smelled like flowers. It wasn't manly, but Lavender did have a nice scent to it. 

Several minutes later, Dean finally brought himself to shut off the water. He grabbed a towel and wiped himself off before wrapping it around his waist. Deodorant and cologne wasn't necessary, but that didn't stop him from putting it on anyway; he even brushed his teeth and gargled with mouthwash before flipping the light switch off and leaving the bathroom. 

Dean hummed to himself as he walked back to the bedroom, looking forward to cuddling up next to Cas again. He noticed the bedroom light was on as he walked down the hall, and stopped before reaching the door because he heard the familiar pumping/breathing sound combination that Dean associated with jerking off. He bit his lip to keep himself from laughing, and leaned against the wall, listening to Cas. Despite the temptation to walk in and help, Dean stood his ground until he heard a soft moan of his name. His eyes widened and he swallowed hard, taking a risk by strolling into the room.

"I feel so much better," Dean announced, smirking as Cas struggled in the bed to cover himself, "well, well, well, what do we have here?" he cocked an eyebrow, still smirking, "You look like you just went for a run, Cas," he sat down at the foot of the bed, "did you go running while I was in the shower?"

"If I said yes, would you believe me?" Cas asked, wide-eyed, staring at Dean, who was wearing only a towel.

"Nope," Dean crawled up the bed next to Cas, resting his head on Cas' chest, "but don't worry about it, it was hot listening to you," he added in a seductive whisper, running his hand down Cas' chest, ignoring the towel that was beginning to undo itself from around his waist.

Cas choked, "you...heard?" he tensed up from embarrassment.

"Oh, don't be like that," Dean slipped his hand under Cas' t-shirt so he could feel the warm skin under his palm, "did you think I was going to ignore something like you jerking off in my bed?" he purred, brushing his fingers over one of Cas' nipples, causing Cas to shiver, "I'm more upset that you didn't ask for help," he added in the lowest, sexiest voice he could muster.  
"What have you done to me, Dean Winchester?" Cas breathed, "This has to be blasphemy."

"Probably, but I don't hear you complaining about it," Dean rebutted, "in fact, I think you enjoy sinning when it involves me."

"I think you're too narcissistic for your own good," Cas sat up to stretch and in one swift movement Dean sat up and slipped the t-shirt off, tossing it across the room, "Dean, what-"

"Lose the boxers," Dean growled, tugging at the blanket that Cas was gripping over his bottom half, "now."

Cas swallowed hard, still holding onto the blanket, "Dean-"

"Boxers. Now," Dean's pupils were blown wide. He was done playing shy, "please," he added sweetly, kissing Cas on the cheek.  
Cas nodded his head to the floor, "um," Dean looked where Cas was nodding and burst out laughing upon seen Cas' boxer already laying on the floor. 

"Now I'm really upset I missed all the fun while I was in the shower," Dean pulled at the blanket again, but Cas still refused to let go.

"Dean, I have perfect hearing. You don't think I couldn't hear you in the shower," Cas narrowed his eyes, giving Dean a sultry look that he didn't think Cas had the ability to give.

"You heard me?" Dean asked, shivering.

"Why else would I have been...taking care of myself?" Cas laced his fingers with Dean's, mostly to stop him from pulling on the blanket, but mostly because he felt like it. He wanted to touch Dean, he wanted to experience everything. All of this was entirely new to Cas; despite having a one night stand with that Reaper chick, but with Dean, everything was an entirely different experience. Slow and steady, he thought to himself.

"Maybe you're secretly a pervert who likes to jerk off in your friend's beds," Dean smirked, shooting a glance down to their hands, "hand holding, Cas? What are we, teenagers?"

"Dean, I know what you're pushing for," Cas started, almost shyly, "but it's not going to happen-"

"Fucking tease," Dean interrupted.

"Tonight," Cas continued as if he wasn't interrupted, "You had a rough night and I'd rather you get some sleep. You look exhausted and it's late."

Dean let go of Cas' hand so he could fold his arms, pouting, "I'm not tired."

"Yes, you are," Cas clapped his hands, still amused by the Clapper, and the lights went out, "if you don't go to sleep, I'm leaving."

Dean's heart sank, snapping out of his sex-driven daze, "Cas..."

"Dean, go to sleep," Cas got out of the bed and heard Dean make a pathetic whimpering sound, "I'm just putting my boxers on," he said, slipping them back on before climbing back into the bed, "you're such a child when you've been drinking."

Dean reached out, feeling for Cas and finally draped his arm around him, pulling him close, "promise you won't leave," he trailed his lips along Cas' neck, afraid to let go, unconvinced that this was real. How could it be? When is he ever allowed to be genuinely happy? The fear of losing another loved one terrified him. If he lost Cas, it would be the last straw. He wouldn't be able to live if he lost the last person he cared about. 

Cas didn't say anything, but laced his fingers with Dean's, squeezing his hand. Dean relaxed a little bit and finally laid down. Maybe this was real, Dean thought, maybe this was finally his chance to be happy. Cas closed his eyes, suddenly feeling extremely exhausted. Dean's skin was soft and warm up against his back, but the towel Dean hadn't bothered to change out of was damp and started to seep into the bedding, "Dean, your towel," Cas said finally.

"You want me to take it off?" Dean asked coyly, running his thumb along Cas' index finger.

Cas sighed, "you're incorrigible."

"And yet here you are," Dean chuckled.

"It feels like the bed is wet, Dean," Cas said pointedly, but couldn't help smiling.

"You're a pain in the ass, you know," Dean let go of Cas' hand and climbed over him to get up. He felt around for his dresser, which he found with a little help from his big toe, which he stubbed. Hard. "Ow fuck!" he knelt down and held his toe, spouting a string of profanities, which made Cas laugh, "oh, ha ha, very funny, you bitch," he complained, feeling for the drawer handle. He didn't bother finding his favorite boxers, he just grabbed the first pair of underwear he felt and stepped into them before jumping back on the bed, but not getting enough trajectory to clear Cas and landed on top of him, "well hello," he felt around for Cas' face and leaned in to kiss him, "you come here often?"

"You know I do, Dean."

"You suck at flirting," Dean rolled off Cas, laying on his back.

"And yet, here you are," Cas said, mocking Dean's voice.

Dean grinned, "since when did you get a sense of humor?"

"I learned from the best," Cas turned toward Dean and cuddled up to him, resting his head on his chest and draping him arm around Dean's middle, "can we sleep now?" he asked, feeling his eyes closing on their own.

"Mm," Dean agreed, tracing little designs on Cas' back with his index finger.

"Dean?" 

"What?"

"I promise I won't leave," Cas whispered, dozing off.

"You better not, because I'll find you," Dean mused, finally feeling tired.

"No you won't," Cas smiled against Dean.

"We'll see about that," Dean kissed the top of Cas' head.

"Mhm," Cas closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep to the sound of Dean's heart.

When Cas started to snore, Dean spoke very softly, "It's just you and me now, Cas," he breathed, "and I'll always be here. I promise," his voice was barely a whisper as sleep took him.


	4. Nightmares and Broken Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas has a vivid dream and has to break his promise to not leave Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter, but it'll tear at your heartstrings.

_"Castiel."_

_The dangerous voice echoed everywhere, calling his name. Cas knew the voice. It was so familiar, but he couldn't put a name to it._

_"Castiel...where did you get that Grace? It isn't yours. You've been naughty."_

_Cas was in the middle of a field. Wildflowers dotted the grass, and the sun shone brightly, forcing him to squint. Off in the distance there was a figure. One he'd seen before._

_"Metatron," Cas spoke softly._

_"Castiel, have you finally come to vow your allegiance to me?"_

_"It doesn't have to be like this, Metatron. Think about what you're doing. You'll never be God. It is unholy to think an Angel could ever be Him."_

_"Oh, Castiel, my dear friend. It's too late. You can't stop me."_

_"I will find a way."_

_"I'll enjoy seeing you try," Metatron was laughing, "It was always going to come down to you against me. But you will not prevail. You're hardly an Angel. Just a man who killed an Angel for his Grace," his words were venom._

_"This is a challenge, then."_

_"I'll even give you a hint...I'm not far away. You could find me easily if you could untangle yourself from that pink monkey play thing of yours. Come and find me, Castiel."_

Cas snapped awake, blinking a few times as he glanced around the room. Dean was now spawled out on his back, snoring loudly with his mouth open; the visual made Cas smile for a moment, until his mind was torn back to other pressing matters. Metatron had come to him in a dream. He had to find Metatron. There was no more avoiding it.

An uneasy feeling was churning Cas' stomach. He was afraid to leave Dean. He was afraid to face Metatron. He was afraid this might be the last time he would ever see Dean. There was no way he could stand against Metatron alone, but it was always going to come to this. He carefully sat up and looked at Dean again, feeling a lump in his throat.

"I'm so sorry, Dean," he mouthed, leaning over to brush a kiss against Dean's lips, "please forgive me," he got off the bed and gathered his clothes, padding silently out of the room, careful not to wake Dean. He came across a some loose paper and a marker and scrawled a note to Dean:

_Dean,_

_Metatron revealed himself to me in a dream. I know where he is, and I can't wait any longer to face him. I'm sorry that I'm breaking my promise not to leave you, and I'm aware that an apology will never suffice for lying to you. But know that leaving you now is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I don't know if I'll be back, but if I don't return, know that you are the greatest man I ever knew. You changed me, Dean Winchester, and I can't possibly thank you enough. You mean absolutely everything to me, and if I'm going to my demise, know that you will be the only thing on my mind in my last moments of existence. If I should fail in battle against Metatron, stay away from him, stay hidden. Don't be brave, you're no match for him, he's too powerful. Even in death I would not forgive myself should you come to harm by hand of Metatron. Don't try to come after me, because you won't find me. I need to do this alone. I hope I'll be able to come back to you, but if not, I'll leave you with this; word I've feared to speak on so many occassions: I love you, Dean. I always have. From the moment I saw you in Hell, I was yours and for the rest of eternity I will forever be yours. Never forget that wherever I may be, I will always, always love you with every ounce of my being, forever.  
Goodbye, Dean. May our paths cross again._

_-Cas_

Cas stared at the note, swallowing hard. He couldn't linger now; if Dean woke up, he'd never avoid a full-out argument and he didn't want to leave Dean on sour terms. This was for the best, he told himself. This was the right thing to do, the only thing to do. He had to face Metatron and that's all there was to it. 

After one last peek into Dean's room, Cas left, leaving only the soft echoing of feathers ruffling throughout the bunker.


	5. Sober Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean realizes Cas is gone, but finds a note left for him. Cas gets into some trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The note that Cas left Dean is written out in the previous chapter.

Several hours passed before Dean stirred in his sleep. He reached out for Cas, grumbling with his eyes still shut, "C'mere Cas, I'm freezing," he complained, his throat dry. When he didn't get a response, he risked being blinded by his hangover by opening his eyes, "Cas?"

Dean's heart sunk. He glanced around his room, "Cas? Are you here?" He called a bit louder, "Cas!" he sat up, immediately cringing from his throbbing hangover. Cursing quietly, he dragged himself out of bed and wandered to the bathroom, then to the kitchen and back to his room. Cas was nowhere to be found. Automatically, Dean's mind went into overdrive- had he imagined the entire evening? Did he just get black-out drunk and dream about everything that had happened?

The bunker was silent. It was just him, and Crowley, but he didn't give a fuck about Crowley right now. He had to find Cas. It was a top priority, despite his head pounding. He walked out of his room again and made his way back to the kitchen to get a glass of water and some aspirin.

After downing three glasses of water and several aspirin, Dean decided to check out the study. Maybe Cas decided to read or something. Dean could hear his heart beating in his ears as he glanced around the corner into the study. No Cas, but he noticed a piece of paper sitting on the long, wooden table. 

Curious, Dean strolled over to the table and picked up the paper. It was a note to him, from Cas. Instantly he felt his stomach twist into a knot, debating if he wanted to read it or not. If Cas left him a note, it couldn't be good news. Dean was positive that Cas wouldn't leave without good reason, not after last night. Not after everything that was said and done. 

Getting up some courage, Dean sat down and started reading the note, "Cas, you idiot," he mumbled as he read, "you big fucking idiot," his eyes darted along the page until, "...I'm the greatest man you ever knew?" he felt his chest tighten as he continued reading. He didn't realize how Cas really felt, and he also didn't realize that there were now tears streaking his cheeks. 

When he finished reading, he gently put the note down on the table, "Cas, I don't know if you can hear me," he whispered, his voice pained, "but I think you're a fucking idiot for going after Metatron without a plan. I swear, if you don't come back, I will personally hunt your soul down and bring you back. I don't care what it takes. You're not leaving me alone. Not after everything that's happened," he sighed, "I need you, Cas. I'm lost without you. Please...I'm begging you not to be a hero. If you can't win, run. I know you're not a coward, and even if you were I'd still," he inhaled slowly, "love you," he closed his eyes, "there, I said it sober. I fucking love you, dammit. Now you have to come back. Okay? Okay." 

Carefully, Dean folded the note up and walked back to his room in a daze. He tucked the note away under his mattress, out of habit from all the times he hid nudie magazines, and climbed back into bed. There was nothing he wanted more than to sleep until Cas returned. Because Cas WAS going to return. He had to. 

Dean tried reassuring himself that Cas was going to be alright, as he stared at the ceiling. But, the more he thought about Cas, the bigger the lump in his throat got. He rolled on his side and grabbed the pillow Cas had been using and buried his face in it, hugging it tightly. It still smelled faintly of Cas, and that made Dean relax a little. He was forcing himself to control his breathing, and in doing so he eventually fell asleep again. 

* * *

Cas stood in a field of wildflowers. The sun was bright, and he almost regretted drinking the previous night. He squinted, looking around for any sign of Metatron. There was no doubt in his mind that he was in the right place. It was the exact field he saw in his dream.

"Metatron, I know you're here," he said dangerously, "where are you?"

There was no answer.

"Metatron," Cas said a bit louder, "Show yourself." 

"Castiel, is that you?" a voice purred behind him, "Can that possibly be my dear friend, Castiel?"

Cas turned slowly, "Metatron," he nodded politely, but narrowed his eyes maliciously, not letting Metatron out of his sight.  
"I'm confused, Castiel," Metatron said, strolling closer, "You came unarmed. Why is that?"

"I don't want to fight you, Metatron."

"Oh, I don't believe that for a minute," Metatron laughed without humor, "you abhor me. Your voice is calm, but your eyes tell an entirely different story. Tell me, where IS Dean Winchester? Gadreel tells me-"

"I will never tell you where Dean is," Cas growled, clenching his fists.

"It couldn't hurt to ask," Metatron shrugged and was now starting to circle Cas, "well then, Castiel, if you're not here to fight me, then why ARE you here? I won't be telling you where Gadreel is, if you're trying to find his vessel."

"Gadreel is inside Sam Winchester?" Cas asked, staring at Metatron in disbelief.

Metatron nodded, a smirk playing the corners of his lips, "Gadreel is going to be second in command up in heaven, and I daresay there is nothing you can do about it."

"Are you unaware of Gadreel's crimes? Listen to me, Metatron, this is a mistake. All of this. Have you lost your mind?" Cas clenched his fists, resisting every urge to lunge at Metatron.

"You have no right to speak to me like this, Castiel. You forget, I do the talking now," Metatron stopped a couple of feet away from Cas, "and all I have to say to you, is that if you're not with me, you're against me and I refuse to let a traitor walk free. I shall smite all who oppose me. You know this."

"Listen to yourself! You're not God. You're the traitor, Gadreel's a traitor. Look at everything you've done," Cas took a step toward him, "at everything Gadreel's done. How could you think this is righteous?"

Metatron started laughing, "I have to say, Castiel, coming from you, this sounds a little...hypocritical."

"And I understand my mistakes now. I've admitted to them and continue to pay the consequences," Cas kept his voice level, "God is righteous and forgiving. You do not possess either of those traits. You're going to destroy everything God worked for, and for what? Power? Is that what you crave?"

Metatron's smiled remained, but rage was burning fiercely in his eyes, "tell me, how do you plan to stop me?"

"By talking some sense into you," Cas rounded on Metatron, "you don't see how all of this is morally wrong? You're acting like a villain. How could anyone pledge their allegiance to someone so filled with corruption and hate? Not even Lucifer can compare to your blasphemy," he spat.

Metatron finally snapped, he swung his fist and it collided with Cas' jaw, sending him flying several yards into a tree, "How dare you put Lucifer in higher regards than me!" he yelled.

Cas hit the ground, face first. Pain was searing through his body, "it's true and you know it," Cas croaked, "you're the epitome of evil and you will burn in Hell for it."

Metatron appeared in front of Castiel, "I don't like to have blood on my hands. That's Gadreel's job," he said through his teeth, kicking Cas as hard as he could in the ribs several times, "but Castiel, I'm going to enjoy ending you."

Cas groaned in pain, coughing and clutching his stomach, "you won't end me," he sputtered, tasting blood in his mouth.

"Oh?" Metatron knelt down and grabbed a fistful of Cas' hair, pulling him up, "I don't see any disadvantage right now," he cooed, punching Cas square in the face and dropping him again.

"You're...a...monster," Cas mumbled, now choking up blood, "I won't...fight you..."

"Then you'll die a coward," Metatron whispered, winding up for another punch.

Cas closed his eyes and braced himself for the impact, but it never came. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes. Surprisingly, he was no longer in the field. Metatron was nowhere to be seen. He recognized this place; it was close to the bunker, but there was no way he would make it there in his current state, "Dean..." he breathed, wishing there was a way Dean could hear him, but he was too weak to even stand, let alone get inside Dean's head. 

Feeling around in his pockets, he realized his phone was still tucked in it. He pulled the phone out and it barely had any battery life or service, but he had to at least try contacting Dean. He punched out the number and held the phone to his ear, praying Dean would answer.


	6. Super Dean to the Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets a desperate call from Cas. An unexpected face from the past helps Dean find Cas.

Dean's phone buzzed loudly on the bedroom desk, waking him up from a dead sleep, "who the fuck is calling me?" he groaned, dragging himself out of bed. He grabbed the phone and answered it without looking at the number, "what is it?" he asked, his tone curt, expecting someone with a case, which he wasn't in the mood for.

"Dean..." Cas' voice was soft, broken, "please..."

"Cas?" Dean snapped to attention, "Cas, what's wrong? Where are you?" he asked nervously, holding the phone between his shoulder and ear as he pulled on a pair of jeans.

"I..." Cas coughed on the other end, "Dean..I..."

"Dammit Cas, talk to me," Dean pulled on his boots and ran out into the kitchen to grab his car keys, "where are you?"

"Close," Cas managed, his voice barely a whisper, "the fence...Dean..."

"I'm here Cas, I'm coming to get you," Dean jogged out of the bunker, "what fence?"

"Metal...chain," Cas' voice was strained, it made Dean flinch.

"The one down the road?" Dean bolted to the Impala, forgetting to even put a shirt on, "Cas, keep talking to me, I'm on my way," he started the car, the engine revved to life.

"The fence," Cas spoke as clearly as he could.

"Cas, you need to be more specific," Dean said, panicking as he pulled away from the bunker, "which fence?"

"Near the," Cas cleared his throat, coughing, "river."

_"You heard him, Winchester," said a familiar voice, coming from the back seat, "the fence by the river, step on it!"_

Dean almost swerved the car off the road, dropping the phone in the process. Swearing, he looked in his rear view mirror, to see a shockingly familiar face, "what the fuck? Gabriel? I thought you were dead!" he swore again, grabbing the phone off the seat, "Cas? Are you still there?"

"Dean..." Cas sounded weak, "I-"

The line went dead, and Dean went into full panic mode. He looked in the rear view mirror again, "how the fuck are you even alive?" Dean demanded, flooring the gas pedal, "You died!"

"I AM dead, you moron," Gabriel rolled his eyes, "but that doesn't mean I can't come back to help my little brother, Castiel. I think the only question that needs to be asked is why are you half naked? Are you getting it on with my brother?" he smirked at Dean.

"What the hell is going on?" Dean kept glancing from the road, to the rear view mirror.

"Look Dean, all you need to know is that I found a loophole around death and I just saved Castiel's ass. You're WELCOME," Gabriel said, looking out the window, "Stop here!"

Dean slammed on the brakes, "What?" he put the car in park and turned around to look at Gabriel.

"Hello! We're here to get Castiel, lover boy. Down by the river," he pointed out the window, "I'm not strong enough in this form to help you," he complained, folding his arms, "why are you still sitting here? Get your ass out of the car! Jeez! Fucking humans, man."

Dean turned the car off and almost tripped getting out of the car. He saw the chain link fence down by the river, and ran as fast as he could toward it, "Cas!" he called out, wishing he'd brought a flashlight, because it was starting to get dark fast, "Cas, where are you?" he yelled, pausing to listen for any clue of where Cas was, "Cas!" he shouted again, stopping at the fence, "I can't see you, Cas! Where are you?"

After another minute of silence, Dean heard what sounded like his name, "Cas? Is that you?" his voice broke and he could feel tears in his eyes.

"Dean..." Cas groaned.

"I hear you, Cas," Dean's voice cracked; he ran toward the sound of Cas' voice, stopping suddenly, falling flat on his ass, when he saw the outline of something tan and rumpled next to a tree, just a few feet away, "Cas?" he asked quietly, his voice shaking.

The tan lump moved and Dean scrambed over to it, on all fours, "Cas, I'm here," he murmured, laying his hand gently on Cas' shoulder, "let's go home," he said softly, standing up, "I'm going to pick you up, don't worry, you're going to be fine."

"Dean?" 

"It's me, Cas," Dean crouched down and, with some difficulty, scooped Cas up in his arms, "I got you," he breathed, holding Cas as gently as he could as he made his way back to the Impala. 

"Dean..." Cas mumbled, resting his head against Dean's bare chest, "you came..."

"Of course I did, you big idiot," Dean said, breathless from jogging uphill, "here we are," Dean was thankful he'd left the driver's side door open, so he easily slid Cas in, and sat down, letting Cas rest his head on his lap, "do you need a hospital?" 

"No," Cas said weakly, "just time."

"Let's go home then," Dean started the car, and sped off toward the bunker, getting back in record time; he didn't even notice that Gabriel was gone. He shut the car off and got out, rushing to the passenger door to help Cas. He leaned in and picked up Cas again, this time without difficulty; he made a mental note to thank his adrenaline rush. 

After managing to get the door open, Dean carried Cas into the bunker, shutting the door with his foot. He brought Cas to the same bedroom they spent the previous night in and carefully laid him down on the bed, "what do you need from me, Cas?" Dean asked, desperate to help, "I'm going to go get a wet cloth and some water for you. Do you-"

"Dean," Cas finally looked up at Dean, "I can heal myself, but it takes time," his voice was still weak, but his words weren't as broken as they were down at the river.

Dean knelt down on the floor, next to the bed, "is there anything I can do to help you?" Dean asked, trying to overcome the tears that were welling up in his eyes, "I want to help. Just tell me what I can do. Anything at all, Cas."

Cas reached for Dean, and Dean automatically grabbed his hand, "promise you won't leave like I did," he whispered.

"I'll never leave," Dean assured him, gently squeezing Cas' hand, "you're stuck with me now," he added, chuckling.

Cas' mouth twitched, in an attempt to smile, but he was exhausted and in pain. He shifted carefully, to get comfortable, "can I sleep now?" he asked, wanting to close his eyes so he wouldn't have to see how devastated Dean looked. The pain in Dean's eyes hurt him more than any injury he'd obtained.

"Of course you can," Dean stood up, reaching over Cas to pull a blanket over him, "I'm going to get you a glass of water, just in case you get thirsty. I'll be right back, okay?"

Cas nodded, closing his eyes, "thank you, Dean."

Dean left the room and quickly got a glass of water before returning to the bedroom, placing it on the night stand. Cas was already sleeping soundly, and Dean didn't want to wake him so he pulled a sleeping bag from under the bed and rolled it out on the floor. He flipped the light switch off and curled up into the sleeping bag. There was no way he'd be sleeping tonight, he was too worried about Cas, but it didn't help to be comfortable on the floor. He laid on his back and closed his eyes, humming a Kansas song to himself. 

Cas opened his eyes as soon as Dean shut the light off. He listened to Dean humming, wishing he could curl up against him. Pain was still throbbing in his stomach, but at least he wasn't coughing up blood anymore. He hoped he would be able to at least sit up tomorrow, because right now he wasn't ready to even try; he was positive Metatron had broken several of his ribs and moving would have caused unnecessary pain. 

Dean shifted in the sleeping bag, catching Cas' attention. A soft light turned on, and Cas realized that Dean was looking at his phone. He risked shifting over so he could see Dean better, but the second he moved, Dean looked over and Cas quickly shut his eyes.

"Cas, I know you're not asleep," Dean sat up and clapped the lights on before scooting closer to the bed. He folded his arms on the mattress and rested his head on them, "do you need anything?" he asked, reaching out to hold Cas' hand.

"Why are you sleeping on the floor?" Cas asked, gently squeezing Dean's hand. He was glad that his arms and legs were spared in the brutal beating he'd received. 

"I thought you were asleep," Dean shrugged, "I didn't want to wake you."

"This is your bed, Dean," Cas ran his thumb along the palm of Dean's hand.

"I don't mind," Dean smiled, "I'm just glad you're back."

"I'm sorry I didn't wake you earlier..." Cas sighed, frowning.

"Why are you apologizing? That's stupid, Cas," Dean leaned forward and kissed Cas' knuckles, "you left a note, and I understand why you left," he added, pressing a long kiss against the top of Cas' hand.

"I heard you call me an idiot," Cas watched Dean's lips trail along his hand, "I'm sorry I didn't come back sooner..."

"Can you stop with the "I'm sorry" crap?" Dean rolled his eyes, "you're here now and that's the end of that."

"You're upset, Dean."

"No, but I'm going to be if you keep bringing this up," Dean let go of Cas' hand and stood up, "you're safe now, so let's just forget about it."

"Dean, I don't know how I escaped," Cas looked up at Dean, "Metatron was-"

"Shut the hell up, Cas," Dean cut him off, "listen to me. All I know is that Gabriel said he saved your ass and that's good enough for me. I don't need to know anything about that dick, Metatron."

"Gabriel?" Cas looked confused, "That can't be true."

"Trust me, I thought the same thing, but he was in my backseat, being a pain in the ass, while I drove to get you," Dean folded his arms, "he said he found a loophole around death. I didn't ask questions."

"Why not? Dean, if Gabriel is back-"

"Why not?" Dean asked, bewildered; he felt bad interrupting, but kept talking, "Cas, I was dealing with a crisis more important than Gabriel," he was staring at Cas, "can we talk about this when you're better? Please?" he pleaded, "I can't think about all this right now," he turned away from Cas and rubbed his eyes, kneading into them with his fists.

Cas didn't know what to say. He wasn't used to seeing Dean this emotionally compromised. It was unnerving, but almost endearing. The old saying to never judge a book by it's cover rang true, especially with Dean Winchester. Dean tried to be a hard ass, but Cas knew he was a big softie, especially when it came to those he cared about. The thought made him chuckle, which he regretted immediately because pain seared in his ribs, but he ignored it.

"Are you...laughing at me?" Dean turned around, his eyes were red and wet.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I was thinking," Cas chewed his lip, trying not to smile. 

"What could possibly be funny right now?" Dean asked, giving him a quizzical look.

"You," Cas admitted sheepishly.

"Me?" Dean folded his arms, an eyebrow raised.

"Yes," Cas couldn't fight the smile any longer, "I can't help but feel happy when I get to see the real Dean Winchester."  
Dean's expression lightened, "you know, Sam was always able to bring out my emotions...but not like you, Cas," he walked over to sit on the edge of the bed, "what are you doing to me?" he looked at Cas, a smile playing the corners of his lips.

"You forget that this is two-sided, Dean," Cas braced himself as he sat up; moving quickly so the pain wouldn't have to chance to stop him. He knew sitting up was a stretch, but he was determined to get better as soon as possible, "I don't remember emotions before I met you...or pain like this," he added, biting his lip as he clutched his stomach. At least he was upright now. This was an improvement, albeit a painful one.

"How'd that feel?" Dean flinched watching Cas sit up so abruptly.

"Not great," Cas admitted, "I'll be fine. I needed to move."

"You didn't have to move, you ass. Did you forget you were hurt?" Dean chuckled when Cas rolled his eyes, "Eye rolling? You've definitely been hanging around me too much."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Cas cocked his head to the side, "have I overstayed my welcome?"

"Shut up, Cas. You know you haven't," Dean scooted up next to Cas, "if it was up to me, I wouldn't have asked you to leave in the  
first place. It was the Angel dick inside of Sam that told me it was a bad idea to have you around," he sighed, "I can't believe he played me like that..."

"Gadreel," Cas mumbled, "that's who's inside of Sam."

"Gadreel?" Dean frowned, "Never heard of the douchebag."

"You have no idea what a...douchebag he actually is," Cas looked at Dean, "Gadreel is the reason God left. The reason for the war and the apocalypse. Metatron said Gadreel was going to be second in command in heaven."

Dean stared at Cas, unable to speak. Rage was building up inside of him and he knew he had to go after Gadreel. There had to be something he could do to save Sam. He was prepared to do anything to save Sam. 

"Dean, are you alright?" Cas asked, reaching for Dean's hand.

"Not really," Dean glanced down at their hands, "but I'm more concerned about you getting some rest."

"Dean-"

"No. You need to rest. We can deal with all of this when you're better. I promise I won't go after Gadreel until you're healed up," Dean said gruffly, "I can't do it alone."

"I will help Sam in any way I can," Cas promised, "I won't let you do this alone."

"Now promise me you'll rest now," Dean half-smiled, "you look like shit," he added, scooting off the bed. 

"I was punched in the face," Cas watched Dean sit down on the sleeping bag, "Dean?"

Dean looked up at Cas, "yeah?"

"Don't make me sleep alone tonight," though he didn't want to admit it, Cas was scared. He was absolutely terrified of the whole Metatron ordeal and he couldn't be alone right now. Not after the brutal beating. He was weak and the only comfort he wanted was Dean. 

"You're not alone, I'm right here," Dean insisted, tucking into the make-shift floor bed, "just lay down and hog the bed, okay? You need a good night of sleep."

"Dean, please," Cas hated that he was pleading, but he was desperate to cuddle close to Dean. He wanted to feel safe again, "at least until I fall asleep?"

"I don't want to accidentally hurt you, Cas," Dean admitted, laying down on the floor, "I promise I won't even leave the room."

"Fine," Cas frowned and moved so his legs were dangling over the edge of the bed, flinching from the surge of pain in his ribs. He carefully lowered himself onto the floor, biting his lip to prevent himself from cursing, and slowly laid down on the cold, marble floor next to Dean. He draped an arm around Dean's stomach and rested his head on his still-bare chest, "goodnight Dean," he mumbled, hissing in pain as he got comfortable.

"You really are a pain in the ass," Dean sighed in defeat, "I give up. Come on, you're not sleeping on the floor. Get up," Dean sat up slowly, helping Cas up to the bed before climbing in himself. 

After several minutes of shifting around into a comfortable position for both of them, Dean clapped to turn the lights off. Cas was content using Dean's chest as a pillow, and Dean was idly running his fingers up and down Cas' back, "thank you, Dean," Cas smiled against Dean's skin, "for everything."

"Don't mention it," Dean kissed the top of Cas' head, "just get some rest. I'll stay right here with you. I promise."

It didn't take long for both of them to fall asleep. Cas was out in a matter of minutes. Once Dean heard him snoring, he relaxed enough to close his eyes, letting himself be lulled to sleep by the sound of Cas' breathing.


	7. Oatmeal in Mugs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has a dream, but is quickly brought to the reality that Cas is his number one priority at this point. Fluffy cuteness ensues, with a side of feels thrown in for good measure. 
> 
> Bonus: Gabriel and Dean sass!

_Dean was in a motel he'd been to before. Everything was so familiar; it was almost like coming home. Except it was a motel. He flopped down on the worn, old bed and closed his eyes. Relaxing._

_"Hey idiot, are you sleeping on the job?" Gabriel's voice made Dean jump._

_"Fuck you," Dean said casually, sitting up, he glanced around, "where are you?"_

_"Anywhere I feel like being," Gabriel appeared, sitting on the unused bed with a smirk on his face._

_"What do you want, Gabriel?"_

_"Dean, I'm trying to help you out here," Gabriel rolled his eyes, "but I could only come to you in a dream. I'm not strong enough to manifest myself, blah blah blah, none of your fucking business. OKAY," he stood up, "Castiel is in rough shape."_

_"He wouldn't let me help him," Dean scowled at Gabriel._

_"There's not a shit load you could do," Gabriel strolled over to the mini-fridge and opened it, grabbing a beer, "but you'd better be there protecting him, Winchester."_

_"He's safe," Dean promised, "I'm not going to leave him. You know that, so why are you in my head?"_

_"I have some information you can either choose to use or pretend this was just a dream," Gabriel said smoothly, taking a sip of the beer, "you really need to stop drinking shitty beer, Winchester."_

_Dean rolled his eyes, "yeah, yeah, yeah. So what do you know?"_

_"I know that you can't stop Metatron alone," Gabriel put the beer down on a table, "you need allies, which I know you sorely lack."_

_"Cas and I can deal with it," Dean argued, folding his arms._

_"It's not about being smarter than Metatron, Dean," Gabriel was serious, and Dean couldn't help but listen, "Metatron is the strongest monster you've ever dealt with and then some. If you think Lucifer was a pain in the ass, you're in for a really shitty wake-up call. And by wake-up call, I mean you're both going to be dead faster than you can blink."_

_"What do I do?" Dean asked quietly, watching Gabriel pace the room._

_"First you need to get Crowley back on the throne," Gabriel frowned, "because you don't want Abaddon ruling Hell. Trust me on that," he looked at Dean, "Crowley is just as against Metatron as anyone. He'll help you."_

_"You want me to side with demons?" Dean stared at Gabriel._

_"Would you rather fight Metatron's army AND Hell together?" Gabriel cocked an eyebrow, "Allies, Dean," he reminded him._

_"Right. So, play nice with Crowley and help him out. Gotcha. Then what?" Dean asked._

_"Well, then there's a matter of getting rid of Gadreel, Metatron's bitch," Gabriel narrowed his eyes mischievously, "of course, you need to kill him. But only after you find a way to save your brother, because I'm assuming that sacrificing your brother to save the world isn't an option."_

_"Good assumption," Dean half-smiled, "So after I deal with Crowley and gank Gadreel, what do I do? Gank Metatron too?"_

_Gabriel started laughing, "how the hell are you going to get close enough to kill Metatron?" he snorted, "Look, Dean. The chances of you living through all of this are slim to none. I'm just telling you what you need to do, so listen up: after you get Gadreel out of the picture, you have to find God."_

_"Where the fuck am I going to find God? If you feathery assholes can't find him, how am I supposed to?" Dean sighed loudly, "You're fucking with me."_

_"Castiel will know where to find him," Gabriel walked over to Dean, "and you're to go with him. Trust Castiel like he trusts you, Dean. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I have faith that you both can make a difference. Even more so if you get your giant of a brother back. The three of you have accomplished more than I ever thought possible. I know that you'll fight to the death to save the world. That's why you were chosen."_

_"Aw, Gabriel, you're making me blush," Dean said jokingly, blowing a kiss to Gabriel, who stuck his middle finger up in return._

_"Just listen to me, Winchester," Gabriel sat down on the bed across from Dean, "with a bond like your's and Castiel's, you two can literally stop the apocalypse. Castiel is special. Trust me on that. He isn't like other Angels."_

_Dean nodded in agreement, "you really think we can stop the end of everything?"_

_"Ehhhh," Gabriel smirked, "I think you'll have a chance if you can stop making out with my brother for two seconds."_

_"It happened one time!" Dean threw a pillow at Gabriel, who disappeared just before it hit him and then reappeared sitting next to Dean._

_"In all seriousness, Dean, yes, I think that if anyone can pull something like this off, it would be the Winchesters and Castiel," Gabriel was being genuine, and Dean couldn't help smiling._

_"You know, when you're not being a smart ass, you're not a bad guy," Dean pointed out._

_"Are you just noticing this?" Gabriel rolled his eyes, "It's amazing how fond people are of you when you're dead."_

_"Speaking of that, how did you manage to come back?" Dean asked, curious._

_"Oh, that'll have to be another time. You're about to be woken up, Dean-o."_

_"What? Gabriel, you can't leave me hanging like-"_

"No!" Cas' voice was frantic, and he grabbed at Dean, clutching to him, "No! I won't tell you where Dean is!"

Dean woke up instantly, "Cas," Dean shook Cas' shoulder, "Hey buddy, you're having a nightmare," he said calmly, shaking Cas' should again.

Cas gasped, sitting up as he opened his eyes, staring at Dean, wide-eyed, "Dean," he sighed, relieved.

"Hey," Dean rested his hand on Cas' back, comforting him, "you alright?" 

"It was a dream," Cas looked over Dean, checking to make sure he was alright, "we can't fight Metatron, Dean," he said, his eyes still wide.

"No, we're not going to," Dean spoke softly, "we have a lot to do before we deal with him."

"What do you mean?" Cas cocked his head to the side, "Did I miss something while I was asleep?"

"Gabriel decided to pay me a visit in dream land," Dean watched Cas' surprised reaction before continuing, "he told me what we need to do. I don't know how he came back, but he's trying to help us."

"What's the plan?" Cas asked, flinching as he tried to move, remembering he was in pain.

"Oh, I'm not telling you yet," Dean kissed Cas' shoulder, "not until you're better. That's the first part of the plan. Getting you back to your old self."

"I'm fine, Dean," Cas insisted, rubbing his ribs, "just a little sore."

"You had your ass handed to you yesterday. Take a few days off, Cas. Let me take care of you," Dean shifted closer to Cas, putting his arm around Cas' waist, "let me repay you for busting me out of the pit."

"That was so long ago. You aren't in debt to me," Cas leaned into Dean, nuzzling his face into the crook of Dean's neck, mumbling something else that Dean didn't hear.

"Cas," Dean breathed, shivering as he felt Cas' lips press against the sensitive skin of his neck, "let's ignore the world for a couple of days until you're at a hundred percent. Then we can get to work," he murmured, closing his eyes as Cas continued brushing kisses along his throat.

"Three days," Cas said stubbornly, flicking his tongue against Dean's collar bone.

"We'll see how you're feeling in three days then," Dean ran his fingers through Cas' hair, maintaining his self control, "not the neck, Cas," he warned, feeling Cas' teeth, "bad idea."

Cas looked up, "bad idea?"

"It's not that I don't want...this," Dean felt his cheeks burning, "just not right now. I know you're still sore...I get carried away."

"I know," Cas smirked, kissing along Dean's jaw, "that's what I was counting on," he whispered in Dean's ear before nipping at his earlobe.

"Jeez, Cas," Dean shuddered, "come on, you need to shower. You're filthy," Dean pulled away from Cas, but not before giving him a quick peck on the lips, "shower. Now."

"You're bossy," Cas chuckled to himself, "how about you help me up?"

Dean scooted off the bed and helped Cas stand up, "can you make it?" he asked, putting his arm around Cas' waist.

"I'm fine," Cas brushed Dean off and limped out of the room, slowly, to the bathroom.

Dean followed Cas into the bathroom and pulled out a towel, "feel free to use the shampoo in there," he said, handing the towel to Cas, "I'll be in the kitchen. If you need anything, just yell."

Cas put the towel on the sink and started unbuttoning his shirt, "thank you, Dean," he winced as he shrugged out of the shirt, revealing deep, purple bruising all over his abdomen.

"Holy shit, Cas," Dean took a step toward Cas, starting to reach out to touch the bruises, but stopped, "I didn't realize how bad it was..."

"I'm fine, Dean," Cas turned away from Dean and reached into the shower to turn the tap on.

"Cas, I'm sorry I wasn't there," Dean meant to leave, but seeing the state that Cas was in, he couldn't bring himself to move.

"What would you have done?" Cas asked, pulling his belt off, "It's not as if I let you come with me. Metatron would have killed you. I couldn't let that happen, Dean."

Dean watched the belt fall to the floor, "He's probably going to kill me when we go after him together," he said quietly, "and he'd better get me out of the way first because if he lays a hand on you again, I'll tear him apart."

Cas finally smiled, closing the distance between him and Dean, "Dean, I'm lucky to have you. I don't deserve it," he gently wrapped his arms around Dean, pressing their bodies together, "I would have been gone years ago if it wasn't for you."

"Same here," Dean carefully draped his arms around Cas, returning the embrace, "it's a pity you're sore, you know," he added, a sly glint in his eyes.

"Why?" Cas' characteristic confused look returned, making Dean smile.

"I guess you've never conserved water by showering with a friend," Dean gingerly kissed the top of Cas' nose.

Cas' eyes grew wide, understanding, a coy smile playing his lips, "Dean, I don't know if I can reach to wash my hair with my injuries," he said, raising a suggestive eyebrow.

"Cas, you really need to stop watching porn," Dean laughed.

"I thought the eyebrow was going to work for sure," Cas frowned, "the women always use the eyebrow and it works."

"Cas, you're not a woman," Dean was still chuckling.

"Tell that to your erection," Cas winked at Dean and let him go, turning back toward the shower, "Dean?" he looked back, serious again.

"What's wrong?" Dean stopped laughing, ignoring the tent in his pants.

"I really think I'm going to need help washing my hair," Cas said sheepishly, his cheeks rosier than usual. He hated asking for help, but he did have to admit that stretching to wash his hair didn't sound pleasant. He was in more pain than he was leading Dean to think. But in a way he kind of enjoyed the pain. It kept him focused, and sort of felt empowering in a way. 

"Well if you actually need help, I think Gabriel would be upset if I said no," Dean's coy smile returned, but disappeared as he spoke again, "but I don't want to overstep anything, you know?"

"It's okay, Dean," Cas unbuttoned his trousers and stepped out of them, leaving his boxers on, "I'll keep these on," he smiled, proud of his good idea. 

Dean smiled, shaking his head, "you're something else," he said, pulling off his jeans, leaving his boxers on, "but, I guess it saves me from having to wash these though," he added, seeing Cas frown.

Cas' smile returned as he walked over to the over sized shower, testing the water before stepping in. Dean followed en suite, stepping in behind Cas, letting the spray from the fancy shower head run down his face, wetting his hair. Cas turned to face Dean, he watched the water run down Dean's chest in streams. He couldn't explain this feeling that was rushing through him, his face contorted in deep thought.

"What's wrong?" Dean reached for Cas' hand, "Are you in pain?"

"No," Cas came back to the present, "I'm just...confused. There's a feeling I don't understand."

"Is it a bad feeling?" Dean sometimes forgot how new feelings and emotions were for Cas.

"I don't think so," Cas was still staring at Dean's chest, "It feels good, but also feels animalistic or uncontrolled," he made eye contact with Dean, "Is this lust?" he asked, stone-faced.

The question caught Dean off guard, and the only thing he could think to do was laugh. And he did, right in Cas' face, "fuck, I'm so sorry," he said still laughing, choking on his words. He took a deep breath and exhaled, composing himself, "I'm sorry."

"Are you done?" Cas asked, still stone-faced.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm done," Dean smiled apologetically, "so, lust?"

"Lust," Cas repeated, "This strange, chaotic feeling I have for you. Is this lust?"

Dean shifted uncomfortably, "you know what lust is, so, if you're feeling that way, then yeah, I guess you're feeling lust," he said awkwardly. It was weird to talk about sex things with Cas. Cas made it awkward. But at the same time, Dean never ceased to get flustered whenever the topic arose between them. He suspected that Cas mentioned sex on purpose, to get a reaction from Dean. 

"Lust, then," Cas smiled again, the almost-human part of him returning, "Dean?"

"Yeah?" Dean grabbed his strawberry shampoo and squirted some in his hand, "close your eyes and turn around so I can wash your hair."

Cas turned and closed his eyes, "I think I'm lusting after you," he said confidently.

"You suck at flirting, Cas," Dean chuckled, massaging the shampoo into Cas' thick, dark hair. 

Cas leaned into Dean's touch, "you don't suck at washing people's hair," he rebutted flirtatiously. 

"You certainly know how to compliment a guy," Dean rubbed his thumbs into Cas' scalp, making sure his hair was clean, before letting the water wash the suds out.

"You're welcome, you ungrateful assbutt," Cas opened his eyes and turned back to Dean when his hair was clean. Dean stepped closer and wiped a smear of dirt from Cas' cheek, "Dean?" 

"Hm?" Dean let his thumb linger on Cas' cheekbone.

"Do you feel lust toward me?" Cas asked, his "serious" face returning.

Dean dropped his hand, coughing, "what?" he choked out.

"Do you feel lust toward me?" Cas asked again, "I don't want to lust for you if the feeling isn't mutual."

"Are you still on about lust?" Dean stammered, "Why are you so fascinated with lust, Cas? I mean, yeah, I guess there's lust between us...but why do you keep bringing it up? There's something off about you."

"What do you mean?" Cas frowned.

"You're never this forward," Dean looked down at the shower floor, "I just don't know how to react."

Cas reached out and grabbed Dean's hand, "I changed when I was human, Dean," he pulled Dean closer to him, "I felt human emotions and I still do. But with having my Grace back, the emotions are intensified and I still haven't figured all of them out. It's confusing."

"I know, I'm sorry," Dean looked at Cas, squeezing his hand, "I just have trouble with talking about feelings, okay?" he hated admitted that he hated talking about emotions. That's how much he hated feelings. Anything with feelings and all that chick flick stuff made him short-circuit. Something just shut off inside him when feelings were brought up. 

"It's okay, Dean," Cas let go of Dean's hand and hugged him, not saying anything else. Dean returned the hug and buried his face in the crook of Cas' neck, afraid to let go. Cas rubbed Dean's back soothingly, ignoring the pain in his abdomen as Dean clutched desperately to him. 

Dean held onto Cas for what seemed like hours. He may not have been able to talk about love and lust and all that, but that didn't mean he didn't want Cas to know how he felt. Cas didn't let go of Dean until Dean let go of him, showing Dean that whatever he was feeling, the feeling was mutual. Finally Dean let go of Cas and kissed his forehead, "I love you," he said gruffly, before getting out of the shower and grabbing the towel.

Cas stood in the shower, once again, caught off guard by Dean's outburst of emotion. He couldn't stop the ridiculous smile across his face, "I love you too, Dean," he replied, turning to shut the tap off. He opened the shower curtain and stepped out, "is that the last towel?"

Dean wrapped the towel around his waist and shimmied his boxers off, "I believe it is," he said, smirking, as he hung his wet boxers on the towel rack.

"I need it," Cas held out his hand for the towel.

"Cas, I need it more than you, buddy," Dean laughed, gripping the towel, just in case.

"You're dry enough," Cas took a step toward Dean, and in one swift movement grabbed the towel from around Dean's waist, and took a step back, "thank you."

"Dammit, Cas," Dean spun around in an attempt to cover himself, and booked it to the bathroom door.

"You have a very nice rear end, Dean," Cas yelled to Dean leaving the bathroom. Wrapping the towel around his waist, and following Dean's lead but draping his wet boxers on the towel rack, he strolled out of the bathroom and walked down to Dean's room. 

Dean was wearing a pair of sweatpants, as he fished through a drawer for a shirt. He glanced up at Cas, "come to harass me some more?" he asked, pulling out a tank top.

"It's not harassment if it's welcomed," Cas smiled and sat down on the bed.

Dean tossed a pair of pajama bottoms and t-shirt over to Cas, "who said it's welcomed?" Dean asked, unable to stop himself from grinning.

"You kissed me first, Dean," Cas looked at the t-shirt. He recognized it as Dean's favorite Led Zeppelin one, "Dean, I don't think I can stretch to put this on," he said sadly, "and bending down doesn't sound very appealing either..." he hated feeling so helpless.  
Dean walked over and knelt next to the bed, helping Cas step into the pajama pants, pulling them up enough for Cas grab them to slip them on. Cas sighed, frowning to himself as Dean helped him. 

"Don't feel bad about asking for help, Cas," Dean murmured, sitting next to him, "that's what I'm here for," he looked down at Cas' bruised abdomen, "if it'll hurt to put the shirt on, you don't have to wear one."

"Thank you, Dean," Cas was still holding Dean's shirt, running his thumbs over the worn fabric. 

"Don't mention it," Dean kissed Cas on the cheek and got up, "I need to eat something. It's been a while."

"Have you eaten since I came back?" Cas asked, folding his arms sternly.

"It's been about three days. I've been too distracted to eat," Dean held out his hand to Cas, "I'll make us some breakfast."

"Dean, you need to take care of yourself," Cas said, taking his hand, "stop worrying about me."

"I was thinking stale cereal and some beer," Dean continued, ignoring Cas while leading him to the kitchen.

"Did you hear me, Dean?" Cas asked, squeezing Dean's hand.

Dean let go of Cas' hand and walked over to the cupboards, rummaging for something to eat, "we have some Cookie Crisp," he pulled the box out and put it on the counter, "there's some oatmeal in here too. What do you want, Cas?" 

"Dean," Cas raised his voice, "look at me."

Dean grabbed the box of oatmeal and turned to Cas, "it's blueberry flavored," he said, holding up the box, waggling his eyebrows.

"Dammit Dean," Cas walked over to him and took the box, "go sit down," he pointed to the kitchen island stools, "I'm cooking breakfast for you."

"Cas, you can't cook," Dean said, smirking.

"And you can't listen," Cas said, scowling at him.

"Fine, fine," Dean held up his hands in defeat and took at seat on one of the stools.

"Thank you," Cas said, walking over to the fridge. He opened it and sighed, "Dean, there's nothing in here."

"There's plenty in there," Dean argued.

"Beer isn't food, Dean," Cas closed the fridge and went to grab the oatmeal, "oatmeal it is."

"Sounds good to me," Dean agreed, watching Cas squinting to read the directions on the box, "you need to cook it in coffee mugs because we don't have bowls. Oh, and we don't have a kettle for water either so use the microwave."

"I don't know how to use a microwave," Cas put the box of oatmeal down, looking defeated.

"How about I take a rain check on you making me breakfast?" Dean said, walking back over to Cas, "I'll get it this time. You can be my sous chef. Go grab the cups."

Cas smiled, "yes, chef," he pressed a kiss on Dean's shoulder and grabbed a couple of dry mugs off the dish rack next to the sink. 

Dean took the cups from Cas, ripped two packets of oatmeal open and poured the contents into the mugs. Cas watched as Dean filled the cups with water and brought them over to the microwave, "let me show you how to work the microwave," Dean nodded for Cas to join him.

Cas walked over and looked at the microwave, "what do I press?"

Dean put the cups in the microwave and shut the door, "see those numbers?"

"Yes."

"Press the '2' and then press '0' twice," Dean instructed, "then press start."

"Okay," Cas pressed all the buttons and grinned excitedly at Dean when the microwave turned on.

"Two minutes and we'll have breakfast," Dean said, opening the drawer under the microwave to grab a couple of spoons, handing one to Cas.

"We make a good team, Dean," Cas said cheerfully, taking the spoon. 

"We've always made a good team," Dean watched the cups circling inside the microwave until the timer reached zero and a loud ping let them know their breakfast was done, "it's hot, be careful," he said, opening the microwave, grabbing the mugs and carrying them over to the island. 

Dean and Cas sat down next to each other and stirred at their steaming hot oatmeal until it was mixed. Cas kept glancing over at Dean, making sure he was doing everything right, because he'd never eaten oatmeal before. Finally he took a bite of it and chewed it a few times. It wasn't that it was an unpleasant taste, but the texture of it made him cringe.

"Really, Cas?" Dean chuckled, watching Cas swallow, "It's not that bad."

"It tastes fine," Cas said, taking another bite, "it's just lumpy," he added, with his mouth full.

"Well it's oatmeal, what did you expect?" Dean laughed, taking another bite of his.

"I don't think oatmeal is my favorite," Cas decided, continuing to eat he breakfast, making a face with every mouthful of oatmeal.

"What do you like then?" Dean asked, finishing the last bite out of his mug. He didn't realize how hungry he actually was, "I can pick up stuff you like when I run to the store."

"Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches," Cas said too-quickly, "I had one when I was human and it was delicious. I think that's my favorite," he smiled, fondly remembering the sandwich.

Dean made a mental note to get peanut butter, jelly and bread, "you realize that only kids eat PB and J, right Cas?" he joked, watching Cas poke at the rest of his oatmeal.

"Kids have good taste then," Cas scowled down at the oatmeal, which was quickly coagulating into a thick, gelatinous blob in the mug as it cooled.

Dean stood up, "that's the same look you give Crowley," he mused, taking Cas' mug, along with his own, over to the sink, "I'll run to the store and get some real food," he said, turning the water on. 

"I'll come with you," Cas got up, taking a few seconds to stand up straight. The pain wasn't nearly as bad as it was the previous night, but it was still very noticeable. 

"No, you're going to stay here and take it easy," Dean squirted some dish soap in the cups, "I won't be gone long," he filled the cups with water and left them to soak, "and besides, you said yourself that you can't put a t-shirt on. You need a shirt to go into a store."

"I'll wear my button-up shirt," Cas grabbed a towel from the counter and handed it to Dean, "I like going food shopping." 

"The button-up with all the blood on it?" Dean took the towel and dried his hands, "Cas, I don't want to argue. You're not going out in a shirt that's covered in blood. Let's lay low for a while, okay?"

Cas knew Dean was right. Maybe wearing bloody shirt wasn't the best idea he ever had, "I'll do laundry while you're at the store," Cas offered, not wanting to be totally useless.

"Cas, you can't bend," Dean reminded him, "I'm saying this only once: If I come home and you're doing something other than relaxing, I'm going to be really pissed."

"I want to help," Cas mumbled, visibly annoyed by his current physical limitations. 

"You can help by taking it easy, so I don't worry as much," Dean laced his fingers with Cas', "the sooner you relax, the sooner you'll get better." 

Cas stepped closer to Dean and rested his forehead against Dean's chest, "I hate being useless," he complained, adding a sigh in for emphasis.

"You're not useless," Dean cupped his hands on Cas' cheeks and tilted his head up, "don't ever say you're useless, okay?" he didn't break eye contact with Cas.

"I couldn't wash my own hair today, Dean," Cas frowned.

Dean kissed the tip of Cas' nose, "but if you could have, we wouldn't have conserved water," he said with a cheeky smile, dropping his hands to pull Cas in for a hug, "and besides, it's a nice change of pace to take care of you," he added, grinning.

Cas finally smiled, "you're too good to me. It's more than I deserve."

Dean let Cas go, "you need to stop putting yourself down, buddy," his smile faded.

"The truth can be painful," Cas shrugged.

"Alright, you know what? I'm sick of this new pity-me bullshit," Dean hit the counter with his fist out of frustration, making Cas jump, "I tell you that I love you and you turn around and say you don't deserve it. Cas, what don't you understand about love? I don't care about your fucking flaws, they're part of the reason why I've gone all Lifetime Network on you. I'm not like this with anyone. You know that," he rubbed his fist with his free hand, "you need to stop thinking about the negative shit and focus on the positives. Yeah, you made some mistakes. We all make them. But the next time you think about putting yourself down, remember that you saved me from Hell. That cancels out every bad thing you've done, okay?"

"But-"

"No, Cas," Dean cut him off, "I don't want my hero dissing himself."

"I'm your...hero?" a range of emotions flickered across Cas' face, "I'm not a hero," he said finally, settling on giving Dean a quizzical look.

Dean rolled his eyes, visibly irritated, "whatever, be that way then," he left the kitchen, leaving Cas standing there alone, and went to his room, slamming the door behind him. He grabbed a pair of jeans out of his dresser and changed into them, before putting on the shirt Cas left on the bed. His favorite Led Zeppelin one. As he sat on the bed to put his boots on, there was a soft knock on the door, "leave me alone, Cas," he warned.

"Dean, can I come in?" Cas asked from the other side of the door.

"I just said leave me alone," Dean tied his boots and stood up, putting his wallet in his pocket.

"Okay," Cas mumbled sadly.

Dean didn't hear Cas walk away, so he reluctantly opened the door and peeked out. Cas was sitting on the floor right in front of the door, staring at him, "'the look' isn't going to work," Dean walked out of the room and grabbed the Impala keys from the study, "I'm going out," he said, walking toward the front room, peeking down the hall to see Cas still sitting on the floor. 

"Bye, Dean," Cas looked at Dean, his eyes wide and a little sad. You know, 'The Look.' He wasn't asking questions he had about where Dean was going though. He didn't want to make Dean angrier than he already was. It wasn't as if he meant to upset Dean in the first place, but he had a tendency to be way too literal. He didn't think he was a hero or worthy of someone like Dean, and was just stating that he wasn't worthy. It didn't make sense to him that Dean always got offended when Cas was being honest. Just another human thing he didn't understand. He did, however, understand that 'the look' always worked on Dean, and counted down in his head until Dean would give in. 

Dean sighed, and walked back over to Cas. _Right on cue, Cas thought to himself._ "I think Sam has a zip-up hoodie in his room," he said, kneeling down next to Cas, "you coming with me?" 

Cas' face lit up, maybe a little too much because he saw this coming, "to the store?" he asked, beaming.

"If I go by myself, I'll come back with a bottle of gin and some pie," Dean admitted sheepishly. 

"You have enough alcohol in the bunker, Dean," Cas said, putting his hand on Dean's shoulder as he tried to stand up. Dean stood up with Cas, helping him, "Dean?"

"Yeah?" Dean asked, standing next to Cas, his hand lingering on Cas' back.

"I don't think 'the look' is ever going to fail to work with you," Cas mused, smiling broadly at Dean.

Dean stared at Cas, processing for a moment before reacting, "God dammit!" 

Cas could only laugh as Dean stomped off to Sam's room to get the hoodie.


	8. Food Shopping and Sigils

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas go food shopping and it doesn't quite turn out how they expected. Dean confronts Crowley, and also Gabriel shows up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quickly, I just wanted to thank all the lovely people who have sent this story kudos. I'm so happy people are genuinely enjoying this. It inspires me to keep writing. I appreciate all of you! Feel free to share this fic and comment! I love hearing from readers. :) -NN

Dean stopped in front of Sam's room. Swallowing hard, he reached for the doorknob and reluctantly turned it. He inhaled and slowly opened the door. Immediately he was hit with flashbacks and couldn't bring himself to go into the room. 

A lump was rising in his throat, and Dean had to brace himself on the door frame. He hadn't thought about Sam since Cas came, and now everything, and then some, was flooding back to him. The worst part? He couldn't even remember the last words he said to Sam before Gadreel fully took over, "I'm so sorry, Sammy," he choked, slinking down the wall to sit on the floor, zoning out. 

"It's okay, Dean," Cas' voice brought Dean back to the present, "I'll just stay here."

"No," Dean looked up at Cas, not fully sure long he'd been staring off into space, "I'm fine," he said, standing up, "I just needed a minute."

Cas nodded, understanding. He watched Dean go into Sam's room and quickly grab a sweatshirt off the floor, before leaving the room and shutting the door. Dean handed the hoodie to Cas and walked back down the hall, without another word.

* * *

"You look like a hobo," Dean mused, grinning to himself as he pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store.

"You wouldn't let me wear my own clothes," Cas said, pulling up the long sleeves of the hoodie for the umpteenth time, "I like this sweatshirt," he added, glancing at Dean, "thank you for letting me wear it."

"Well, it's not like Sammy needs it," Dean half-smiled at Cas when he turned the car off, "so, just a quick in and out. I freaking hate food shopping," he said, stepping out of the car. 

Cas nodded in agreement, wincing as he opened the car door. Dean came around to the passenger side of the Impala, and helped Cas out of the car. He smiled at Dean and followed him into the store.

Dean grabbed a shopping cart and habitually headed toward the bakery; Cas followed alongside the cart. When Dean stopped to look at the pies, Cas chuckled behind him. Dean ignored Cas and grabbed a cherry pie, gingerly placing it in the bottom of the cart, "don't say a word," he said, before Cas could make a comment.

Cas happily followed Dean around the store, mostly observing everything around him. Every now and then something caught his attention, and Dean humored him, ignoring the weird looks Cas was getting from people. While walking down the condiments aisle, Cas froze, "Dean," he said, pointing to the shelf, "Dean, that's peanut butter and jelly together in one jar," he said, looking like a kid on Christmas morning, "can we get it?" 

"It's like going shopping with a child," Dean grabbed the jar, rolling his eyes, but he also couldn't stop himself from smiling upon seeing Cas practically beaming with joy. 

After walking around the store, Cas was starting to look tired, and Dean absentmindedly reached out and laced his fingers with Cas', squeezing his hand, "let me just pay for this stuff. You can go sit in the car," he let go of Cas' hand and pushed the cart toward the registers. 

Cas walked out of the store and headed to the Impala. As he went to reach for the door handle, he heard his name and froze. He recognized the voice, and closed his eyes, afraid to turn around.

"So you're Castiel," the voice mused, "you look terrible. Metatron wasn't exaggerating."

"Gadreel," Cas exhaled quietly and turned to face Sam Winchester's shell, "Have you come on behalf of Metatron?" he asked, keeping his voice even.

"Oh, I'm not here for you," Gadreel said, a smile playing the corners of his lips, "I have new orders."

Cas felt his stomach drop. Nothing else needed to be said. He understood perfectly well that this was a trap for Dean, and there was nothing he could do about it, "you're here for Dean."

Gadreel nodded, "you aren't going to try stopping me, are you, Castiel?" 

Cas didn't speak. He stared at Gadreel, unblinking and unable to move. Possible plans ran through his mind, but there was no way this would end well. 

"Just the answer I was hoping for," Gadreel smiled, his cold eyes burning into Cas until he turned around. Cas spotted Dean immediately and motioned for him to go back into the store, but Dean dropped the bags he was carrying and stood in place, staring at his brother, who was no longer his brother, "Dean, why don't you come over here and talk," Gadreel said cooly.

"Gadreel, please," Cas grabbed Gadreel's arm, but immediately regretted the decision when Gadreel elbowed him in the ribs.

"Cas!" Dean jogged over to the Impala, stopping a couple of feet in front of Gadreel, "you son of a bitch," he growled, clenching his fists, "what do you want?"

"I came on behalf of Metatron," Gadreel said, his face emotionless.

Dean glanced at Cas, curled up in a fetal position on the pavement, cringing in pain. Reluctantly he took another step toward Gadreel, "I guess he's too busy destroying the planet to make house calls," he said petulantly, his eyes straying to Cas again, who was reaching into the pocket of the sweatshirt. _Sam's knife is in there,_ Dean remembered, looking back to Gadreel, realizing Cas' plan, "so that must make you Metatron's bitch."

Gadreel snatched Dean's wrist, squeezing it until Dean felt something snap, and cursed in pain, "Humans are so fragile," he mused, turning to look at Cas, just in time to see a sigil carved into Cas' chest, "You aren't human, that won't-"

Cas pressed the palm of his hand to the sigil, and Gadreel was gone in a blinding flash of light. Dean darted over to Cas, kneeling down next to him, "how did you know that would work?" Dean asked, helping Cas sit up, so he could open the car door.

"I didn't," Cas groaned, as Dean lifted him into the car, biting his cheek to stop himself from yelling in pain from his newly broken wrist.

"I thought it only worked with human blood," Dean said, leaning against the car.

"Yes," Cas affirmed, frowning to himself, "I know it was a risk, but I know I am at least partly human. It was worth a try."

"Thanks, Cas," Dean leaned down and kissed Cas' cheek, "let's get out of here before that feathery douche comes back."

After grabbing the bags of groceries he'd dropped and ignoring traffic laws and speed limits, Dean drove, one-handed, back to the bunker. Normally a fifteen minute trip took about half that. When they were safely inside, Dean locked down everything. They'd painted sigils to keep out Angels, so Dean wasn't afraid of Gadreel breaking in. This bought them some time. He had to talk to Crowley. He couldn't put it off any longer.

Cas insisted that Dean let him heal his wrist, but Dean was insistent that he bandage him up first. He could see the pain in Dean's eyes, every time he tried to use his broken wrist. Finally he swatted Dean's hand away, "stop, I'm fine, Dean," he gently took Dean's injured wrist and kissed it, "I'm sorry this happened," he whispered, closing his other hand around Dean's wrist. A soft, blue light shone for a moment between his hands, and then Cas kissed Dean's wrist once more for good measure.

Dean moved his hand around, rubbing his wrist, "Why'd you waste your mojo on me?" he asked, frowning, "You need it to heal yourself."

"I wanted to," Cas smiled weakly, wavering on his feet.

Dean noticed Cas starting to sway and he quickly laced his arm around Cas' back, "I think you need to rest," he said, helping to support Cas' weight as they walked to Dean's room.

"I'm fine," Cas insisted, "just a little dizzy."

"Well you're sorta human now, so here's a tip- blood loss is bad. If you loose too much blood, you die. So, no more carving sigils into yourself, okay?" Dean kicked his door open with his foot, hitting the light switch with his elbow as he walked Cas over to the bed.

Cas slowly laid down on the bed, looking drowsily up at Dean, "this was all my fault," he mumbled, closing his eyes and Dean draped a blanket over him.

"It was bound to happen. Those dicks know our weaknesses. I shouldn't have let you come out with me," Dean sat on the edge of the bed, "I should be the one apologizing. I almost killed both of us."

"But you didn't," Cas smiled to himself, "you distracted him long enough for me to fix my mistake," he added, his voice muddled with sleep.

"And you saved the day," Dean brushed his fingers along Cas' cheek, "so now you deserve some rest, buddy."

"Don't leave," Cas opened one eye, "Dean?"

"It's okay, Cas. Just get some rest. I'll be right here if you need me," Dean said, bending down to kiss Cas' forehead, "I love you."

Cas closed his eye again and smiled, "me too," he mumbled, relaxing into the pillow.

When Cas was finally asleep, Dean slipped out of his room, turning the light off, and headed down to the basement. He flipped the lights on and opened the dungeon. Crowley was smirking at him, "hello, squirrel."

"Okay, so here's the deal," Dean said, pulling a chair up to the table in front of Crowley, "you need to get back on the throne."

"What was that?" Crowley narrowed his eyes, "You need me to run Hell?"

"But here's the catch," Dean folded his hands on the table, leaning forward, "in exchange for my services in helping you get back on the throne, I'll need your help to get rid of Metatron."

"Are you asking for my...help?" Crowley was smiling menacingly, "Are you just now realizing that you need my help? Look at you, you're alone and want to kill God. How did you expect that to work out?"

"Cas and I need your help," Dean controlled his face, staring at Crowley, his voice serious, "in order to save Sam and take down Metatron, we need your help."

"Castiel is back?" Crowley said, interested, "Why hasn't he come down to say hello? Or, have you had him in compromising positions for the past two days?" he added, sneering.

"Cas is in rough shape," Dean scowled at Crowley, "but when he's better, we're going to need your help. So what do you say?"

"Are you going to take these shackles off?" Crowley held up his handcuffs.

"That depends on whether you want to help us or not," Dean pulled a key out of his pocket and held it up, "so what do you say?"

"Name your terms," Crowley said, his voice gravelly as he stared hungrily at the key.

"Cas and I are going to do whatever it takes to get you back on the throne," Dean started, "and, providing that doesn't kill us, in return you have to help me and Cas."

"Define help," Crowley raised an eyebrow at Dean.

"When we get a plan together after you're King of Hell, you have to help me and Cas take down Metatron," Dean said, unblinking, "do we have a deal?"

"Deal," Crowley said, looking expectantly at Dean, "well?" 

"Well what?" Dean asked, tucking the key back into his pocket.

"We need to seal the deal, Dean. You've made enough deals with demons to know that," Crowley winked at him.

"I'm not kissing you," Dean said firmly.

"Well then no deal," Crowley rebutted.

Dean clenched his fists, "fine," he leaned across the table and closed his eyes, cringing as he pressed his lips against Crowley's. He could practically taste the smirk on his face. After a quick peck, he sat back down, fighting the urge to punch Crowley.

"That wasn't so hard now, was it?" Crowley mused, the smug look on his face returning again.

"And if you back out of this deal, I will personally gank you," Dean said, putting the key back in his pocket.

"Wait a bloody minute! You said you'd let me out of the shackles," Crowley yelled, slamming his fists on the table.

"I never said yes," Dean reminded him, standing up, "and I don't trust you. So you're staying right here until I need you."

"Well played, Dean," Crowley snarled, his eyes narrowed maliciously.

"Thank you," Dean smirked at him before strolling out of the dungeon, closing the door behind him. He made a point of shutting off the lights as he reached the top of the stairs, and locked the basement door, just to be safe. One thing he didn't do was underestimate a very pissed-off Crowley. Just like Crowley didn't underestimate a very pissed-off Winchester. 

Dean kicked his boots off in the study and walked down the hall to his room, after quickly stopping in the kitchen to put away the groceries. He crept into the room as quietly as he could manage, climbing carefully over Cas to lay down on the bed. 

"Dean," Cas murmured, rolling over slowly to face Dean.

"I'm right here," Dean shifted closer to Cas, who curled up against his side, resting his head on Dean's chest, "sorry I woke you up," Dean whispered, stroking Cas' hair.

"Mhm," Cas hummed, his grip on Dean loosening. 

Dean played with Cas' hair until he was sure Cas was asleep. Then he carefully pulled a blanket over them, scooting down a little so he could comfortably rest his head on a pillow. Cas stirred for a second, but settled down when Dean stopped moving. Finally, Dean started to relax, letting himself drift off. 

When Dean opened his eyes, he glanced down at Cas who still had his arm draped across Dean's stomach. He felt refreshed for the first time in months. It was rare that he'd go an entire night without nightmares or people waking him up, it was a nice change of pace. But, as rested as he felt, he really needed to stretch, "Cas," he said softly, running his fingers through Cas' hair, "I need to get up."

Cas gripped the fabric of Dean's t-shirt, unmoving as he grumbled something unintelligible.

"Cas, I really need to stretch," Dean trying to loosen Cas' grip on his t-shirt. When Cas finally let go, Dean pulled Cas' hand up to kiss the bandaged palm before sitting up and climbing over Cas to stand. When he finally stretched, he felt several joints pop and exhaled contently, strolling out of the room to figure out what time it was. 

Dean yawned as he walked into the kitchen, his eyes still half-shut. He automatically opened the fridge and poked through the groceries. The cherry pie had miraculously survived being dropped, and Dean couldn't resist having a victory slice. As he turned away from the fridge, he almost dropped the pie a second time, "jeez, Gabriel," he shot a dirty look to the ghost-angel-whatever who was currently sitting at the island, "don't fucking sneak up on me like that."

"I've literally been sitting here the entire time," Gabriel smirked at Dean.

"Well I just woke up," Dean mumbled, grabbing a fork out of the drawer.

"And how did you sleep? I must say, you look rested, Dean," Gabriel winked at him.

"Actually," Dean took a bite of the pie, "I slept surprisingly good, considering Gadreel came after me and Cas yesterday."

"You're welcome," Gabriel looked smug.

"What do you mean? It's because of you that I slept like a rock?" Dean shoveled another large bite of pie in his mouth.

"Castiel too. He'll be out for a while," Gabriel said, unable to stop himself from laughing.

"How did you knock us out like that? I just slept for like fourteen hours," Dean said as he glanced at the wall clock.

"Hello! Trickster! You think I'm actually going to tell you?" Gabriel laughed before focusing on the matter at hand, "The point is, it doesn't matter how I came back. So forget about it. Right now you need to be focusing on Castiel, and that doesn't mean going on a romantic food shopping adventure in a place that Sam would know. Because if Sam knows somewhere you might be, consider Gadreel informed. You, mister, are on lock down for the next two weeks." 

"Two weeks?" Dean stabbed his fork into the pie, "The end of the world isn't going to go on vacation for two weeks while Cas gets better." 

"No shit, numb nuts. Why do you think I came? To shoot the shit and talk about that time you took a shower with my brother?" Gabriel rolled his eyes.

Dean pushed the pie away, "okay, I'm starting to get really pissed. Can you stop with the bullshit and just tell me what the hell is going on?" he was glaring at Gabriel by this point. 

"Easy, tiger," Gabriel got up and strolled over to Dean, "while you're playing house with Castiel for the next couple of weeks, I'm going to go around and raise the hype about Crowley returning to hell. I know people," he picked a piece of crust off the pie and popped it in his mouth, "it'll work." 

"So, what, we're not allowed to leave the bunker? Did you forget we need to eat?" Dean watched Gabriel pick at another piece of pie crust.

"Don't worry about it," Gabriel felt Dean staring at him, so he stuck his finger into the cherry filling of the pie, "I'll take care of it. Stay inside until I give you more instructions. Got it?"

"I don't get something," Dean said, almost laughing when Gabriel sighed loudly, dramatically dragging his hands down his face, "you're not a normal spirit. What are you?"

"Technically a re-animated corpse," Gabriel gave in and explained, "some fairies owed me a favor," he scowled at Dean, who was snickering, "you couldn't even imagine what a little fairy magic and an Arc Angel's grace can do. I think I look pretty damn good," he said, giving Dean a smarmy grin.

"So, wait a minute. How did you get Cas away from Metatron? You told me in the car that I had to get Cas because you couldn't get him in the form you were in," Dean folded his arms, frowning at Gabriel, "I want the truth, Gabriel."

"Okay, okay, you win," Gabriel held up his hands in defense, "I said that because I didn't want to admit that I was physically too weak to bring Castiel to the bunker," he said, visibly annoyed, "I used up most of my mojo to zap Castiel back to where I did. I don't have much juice left...so I can't be saving your damsel asses every two seconds. So, for the love of my dad, please just stay inside. If you guys can't stop the end of the world, no one can."

Dean felt a pang of guilt for giving Gabriel a hard time, "I didn't realize you could run out of mojo."

"Once I use it up, it's gone and so am I," Gabriel looked uncomfortable, "my grace is the life force keeping me from keeling over. The more of my powers I use, the quicker I kick the can. And bamfing someone five hundred miles back to their boyfriend really drained me. I hate being all serious, but we can't afford to fuck around."

"I get it," Dean said quietly, "lock down until you give us the plan."

"That a boy," Gabriel's characteristic smug grin returned, "now, as much as I've enjoyed our chat, Dean-o, I have shit to do," he started walking out of the kitchen but turned back, "and your little boyfriend is going to be up soon," he added, winking at Dean before turning away.

"Gabriel," Dean called after him, and he turned toward Dean again, "thanks for saving Cas. I mean it. Thank you."

Gabriel nodded, "lock the door when I leave. Because that's how I got in. You idiots didn't lock it," he said strolling out of the kitchen. 

Dean followed Gabriel out and locked the door after he left. As he was walking back down the steps into the main foyer, Cas was walking out of Dean's room, yawning. His hair was disheveled and the bandage around his chest was stained from the sigil that he carved into his chest. Dean walked over to Cas, "good morning, sleeping beauty," he chimed.

"How long was I asleep?" Cas asked, rubbing his eyes.

"About fifteen hours," Dean couldn't take his eyes off the bloody bandage, "how's your chest?"

"It's fine," Cas said, still not fully awake, "cuts heal quicker than broken bones," he added, yawning again, "what did I miss?"

"We can talk when you wake up a little. Why don't you go take a shower? It'll perk you up," Dean said, bumping a kiss against Cas' temple.

Cas nodded, "good idea," he said, giving Dean a sleepy smile as he went off to the bathroom.


	9. Peanut Butter and Lost Inhibitions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so the floodgates, cautiously, open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to give a big shout-out to the lovely people who have left kudos/comments. It means the world to me that people are actually reading this. Thank you, thank you! If this next chapter gets a bunch of views to the fic, I'll post a super long 10th chapter! :)

Dean busied himself in the kitchen, spreading the peanut butter/jelly jar concoction onto some bread while Cas was in the shower. He couldn't help but smile to himself because he remembered making Sam's school lunches when they were kids. When he spread enough peanut butter-jelly on the bread, he put another piece of bread over the sticky mess and slid the plate across the island, in front of a stool.

While Dean rinsed off the butter knife, Cas came into the kitchen, wearing a towel around his waist. Dean turned around and smiled at Cas, "you look better," he said, shutting the water off.

The bruises on Cas' chest were yellowing and starting to fade, but the pink scar of the sigil was still very noticeable, "I feel better," Cas admitted, looking over at the sandwich.

"I made breakfast," Dean said, drying his hands on a dish towel.

"I thought it was my turn to make breakfast," Cas feigned disappointment as he sat down on a stool, examining the sandwich.

"I'm supposed to be taking care of you," Dean took a seat on the stool next to Cas, pulled the pie, that he was eating earlier, closer and picked up the fork, "Gabriel made me promise to get you back to a hundred percent."

"What else did you promise Gabriel?" Cas asked, taking a bite of the sandwich. He closed his eyes, savoring the taste, a smile spreading across his mouth.

"That we'd stay on lock down for two weeks," Dean said quietly, glancing at Cas, "he has things under control for now," he added, taking a big bite of the pie.

"We can't wait two weeks," Cas said, his mouth full. 

"We're going to have to," Dean poked at the pie with his fork, "Gabriel said he'd keep us informed, but you need to get better first."

Cas frowned, putting the sandwich down, "I'm not that weak."

"You're acting like this is the worst thing that could happen," Dean mumbled, putting the fork down, "I don't want to wait either, but this r&r could be good for both of us."

"I suppose," Cas took another bite of the sandwich, closing his eyes again, his smile returning, "this is better than my first peanut butter and jelly sandwich."

"I've never seen anyone so happy over a sandwich before," Dean chuckled, "I wish everyone was this easy to please."

After they finished eating, Dean took a shower, while Cas changed into a pair of Dean's sweatpants and settled down in the study to read. Most of the day was spent lounging around the study. Cas scanned through countless books, while Dean tapped away at Sam's laptop, both thoroughly enjoying the companionable silence. 

Several hours later, Cas closed the book he was reading and put it on the side table, "Dean?"

Dean didn't look up from the laptop, "hm?" 

"Can we talk?" Cas asked, looking conflicted.

Dean finally glanced up from the computer screen, "what about? Everything okay, buddy?"

"This," Cas motioned to Dean and himself.

"Oh, right," Dean reluctantly closed the laptop. He knew this conversation was coming. With the make out session and proclamation of love, there was no dodging this talk, "talk to me, Cas," Dean got up from the chair he was seated in and went to sit next to Cas on the leather love seat.

"We kissed," Cas stated, looking at Dean, "and said a lot of...emotional things," he lost his of thought and looked down at his hands.

"You want to know what this is," Dean offered, not sure of what else to say. 

"I don't know a lot about human relationships, Dean," Cas sighed, folding his hands, "I wouldn't know who else to talk to about this. I apologize for bringing it up."

Dean was thoughtful for a moment before he spoke, choosing his words carefully, "I don't think this has a name. We're Dean and Cas, and, in your words, we share a profound bond." 

Cas nodded in agreement, looking at Dean again, "that's true," he said, content with Dean's answer, "Dean?"

"Yeah?" Dean picked at a loose string on his jeans, avoiding Cas' gaze.

"Do you regret this?" Cas asked, sounding sad as he reached for Dean's hand, lacing their fingers together. 

Dean tightened his grip on Cas' hand and finally made eye contact, "Do you?" his voice was low, almost nervous.

Cas shook his head, "I haven't felt regret since betraying you and Sam. But you didn't answer my question."

"Dammit, Cas, of course I don't regret it," Dean let go of Cas' hand, "did you really think I regretted saying everything?"

"I can never tell with you," Cas rested his head on Dean's shoulder, "I don't want this to end when I'm better," he added in a whisper.

Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing. He wasn't one for outwardly expressing his feelings for someone, but he forgot that Cas wasn't like most people, "listen to me, Cas," he shifted on the love seat and put his arm around Cas, tilting his chin up with his free hand, "there's no me without you," he bowed his head and kissed Cas, sliding his hand around the back of Cas' neck.  
Cas closed his eyes, letting Dean kiss him. A frantic desire rising up inside him. He turned to get into a more comfortable position, resting his hand on Dean's chest, gently gripping his shirt. Dean took that as encouragement, letting his lips wander down Cas' chin and along his jaw. 

"Bedroom?" Cas mumbled, shivering at the brush of stubble along his cheek.

Dean immediately helped Cas up, pulling him close. Cas nuzzled into Dean's neck, as they stumbled down the hall to Dean's room, kissing and sucking in a tangle of clumsy limbs. Finally they made it to the bed, and Dean tripped backwards, hitting the mattress hard, leaving Cas standing, eyeing him, his pupils blown wide.

Scrambling to get on the bed, Dean looked expectantly at Cas, who carefully climbed onto the bed, lowering his face close to Dean's, their noses brushing, "Dean, I-"

Cas was cut off by Dean crushing their lips together, cupping Cas' cheeks between his hands, "stop thinking," he mumbled in a husky voice, nipping at Cas' bottom lip.

"Get up," Cas said gruffly, wincing a little as he laid down on his back, switching places with Dean.

"Are you alright?" Dean laid on his side, next to Cas, tracing the scar with his index finger, "if you're still in pain-"

"Stop thinking," Cas mocked Dean's voice and pulled Dean on top of him, ignoring the shooting pain in his ribs from the sudden movement, forgetting the pain completely when their lips met again. Dean swung his leg around Cas' hip, straddling him without breaking the kiss. Cas gripped desperately at Dean's t-shirt, groaning at the contact between their hips, his breath hitching as Dean, grinding against him, deepened the kiss. 

Losing all inhibitions, Cas ran his tongue along Dean's bottom lip, smiling into the kiss. He was lost in a tidal wave of sensations. His bare skin against Dean's shirt and the weight of Dean's hips on his own was overwhelming in the best possible way. It wasn't like this with April. It was different with Dean, and not in the sense that Dean wasn't a woman. There was something there Cas couldn't put his finger on. 

"Cas," Dean whispered barely breaking the kiss, his breathing was ragged, "tell me you love me," he pleaded, their forehead's pressed together, "please."

Cas tugged at the hem of Dean's t-shirt, "I love you, Dean Winchester," he murmured, closing the gap to kiss Dean again, making a happy noise when Dean slipped his tongue into the mix. He slid his hands up under Dean's shirt, running his fingers along the muscles. 

Dean sat up for a second and pulled his shirt off, throwing it across the room before pressing their bodies together, the skin on skin contact made him shiver. He wasn't ashamed of how hard he was, especially with Cas' excitement poking him in the thigh. Despite his animalistic desire to fuck Cas stupid, Dean held onto his self control, with difficulty, because Cas was rolling his hips against Dean's, "Cas," he mumbled, against Cas' neck, "I cant..."

"You don't have to say it," Cas said gruffly, carding his fingers through Dean's hair, "I know your feelings about-"

"No," Dean rolled off Cas, "not that," Dean layed on his back, folding his arms behind his head, "I don't want to get carried away until you're better..."

"Dean-"

"Give it a few days, Cas. I don't know what the rush is," Dean interrupted, sitting up, "I don't understand this whole new...thing between us and honestly, I'm scared. I'm not saying I don't want it... I just..." Dean sighed, "I just don't want to ruin everything like I always do," he looked at Cas, "I'm afraid, Cas."

Cas sat up, grimacing as the familiar pain shot through his ribs. He could see the fear in Dean's eyes and couldn't deny being just as frightened, "Dean," he spoke slow and deliberate, "in all the years I've known you, there is one thing about you that I've noticed. You care so deeply about those around you, so much so that there's no love left for yourself. You refuse to be happy, even when there's a chance you could die tomorrow...which is almost every day when you're you," he smiled sadly, "Dean, you don't have to be afraid. Yes, there's a very likely chance that Metatron will kill us both. And even if that isn't the case, let yourself be happy for once," Cas scooted closer to Dean, resting his hand over Dean's tattoo, "I want you to be happy."

"I'm not afraid of being happy," Dean covered Cas' hand with his own, "I'm afraid of losing the one thing left in my life that makes me happy."

"I promise you I'll be with you until whatever end we come to," Cas pressed a kiss to the hand-shaped mark on Dean's shoulder, "you jump, I jump, right?"

"Did you just quote Titanic?" Dean snorted, his snarky smile returning.

"And now you can't deny that you've seen it too," Cas grinned triumphantly. He didn't want to drop the subject of Dean's happiness, but he could see that Dean was on the verge of a meltdown, and he didn't want to push him any farther.

"I walked right into that," Dean rolled his eyes, before looking serious again, "you're not to tell anyone that I've seen Titanic."  
Cas chuckled, still brushing his lips against Dean's shoulder, "I doubt the subject will come up, but if it does, I didn't hear anything."

"Good answer," Dean pulled Cas' hand to his lips, gingerly kissing his palm, "how about some dinner?"

"Can I be the chef this time?" Cas asked, watching Dean get out of bed.

"I was just going to pop a frozen pizza in the oven," Dean said, picking his shirt up off the floor, "then I thought we could watch a crappy movie. I have a whole collection that I've managed to stockpile since Sam and I started bunking here."

"If you make the pizza, I get to pick the film," Cas compromised, climbing off the bed.

"Fair enough," Dean shrugged, "the DVDs are in my closet," he added, strolling toward his door, but before he left he turned to look at Cas, "Cas?"

"What is it?" Cas looked over a Dean as he opened the closet.

"I love you," Dean said with the most genuine happy-smile Cas had ever seen, just before leaving the room.

It was the little things about Dean that made Cas crazy about him. The coy glances, lascivious grins and even the waggling eyebrows. Sometimes Dean caught Cas off guard with sweet comments, and it never ceased to give Cas a fluttering feeling in his chest. He only recently realized that this giddy feeling was love, and it was still entirely new to him. If asked about love before he met Dean, he would have vehemently denied it's existence. But now, after all that had happened, after everything that had been said...Cas knew that love was very real. And it came in the form of Dean Winchester.


	10. Star Trek is Romantic, Right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas settle in for a long two weeks of lock down, starting with a movie night that isn't quite what they had expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 20k words in...I think it's some for a little smutty treat. A teaser, if you will. ;) 
> 
> Oh. Also. Thanks again for the support! I hope you're all enjoying this fic as much as I'm enjoying writing it!

Cas was sitting on the floor of the bedroom when Dean came back, holding two plates, each with slices of pizza on them. DVDs were spread around, some stacked into neat piles, others strewn haphazardly across the floor. Glancing up, Cas held up a DVD, "What about this one?" he asked, "Or, this one," he grabbed another DVD and showed it to Dean, "I've never seen any of these films," he admitted sheepishly.

Dean set the plates down on the desk and sat down on the floor with Cas, he gently took the first DVD and looked at it, "The Wrath of Khan is probably the best Star Trek film ever made," he said, grinning in spite of himself.

"What about this one?" Cas asked, referring to the other DVD. 

"You don't want to watch that one," Dean chuckled, "or, I should say, we can't watch that. Let's save that one for when you're ribs aren't all messed up, okay?"

Cas decided to play it off like he didn't know he'd chosen a risque film, "I didn't realize it was pornographic," he put the DVD down, putting on his best embarrassed face.

"You're a terrible liar," Dean mused, "It's literally called Star Sluts 3: The Search for Cock."

Cas shrugged, "The summary of the film was intriguing."

Dean grabbed the DVD and flipped it to the back, "A sexy romp through space with Captain Jamie T Kunt and her crew of bikini clad officers," he read out loud, raising an eyebrow to Cas.

"What?" 

"Nothing, Cas" Dean put the DVD down again, and stood up, an entertained grin on his face, "let's watch Star Trek on the big screen," he offered Cas his hand, which Cas took gratefully, only grimacing a little as he stood up.

"I've never had pizza," Cas noted, picking up the plates as he followed Dean down to the projector room.

"Pizza kicks ass. You're going to love it," Dean assured him, opening the door to the make-shift home movie theater. 

Since moving in to the bunker, Dean took it upon himself to update the electronics. Instead of film strips, there was now a DVD player that projected films onto a large white screen. There was also a series of beanbag chairs, one of the leather couches from the study and even a large fleece blanket draped over the couch. 

"Grab a seat, I'll put the movie on," Dean strolled back to the DVD player.

Cas put the plates of pizza on the small coffee table in front of the leather sofa and sat down, pulling the blanket over his lap. When Dean put the movie on, he took a seat next to Cas, digging in the couch cushions for the remote. After turning around and pressing a few buttons, the movie started playing.

Dean reached for the pizza, handing Cas a plate, "eat your dinner," he said, taking a large bite out of his own slice.

Cas inspected the pizza for a moment before finally taking a small nibble, chewing thoughtfully, "Pizza isn't sweet like peanut butter and jelly," he said, a little disappointed.

"You can't eat peanut butter and jelly for every meal," Dean half-smiled, picking a piece of pepperoni off the pizza, popping it into his mouth.

"Why not?" Cas asked, frowning.

Dean couldn't think of a good answer other than, "because it isn't healthy," to which Cas responded by rolling his eyes before eating the rest of the pizza without complaint.

Turning his attention to the film, Cas couldn't figure out what was going on, but Dean was so absorbed that he didn't have the heart to ask about the plot. Apparently some half-naked Spanish man named Khan was out to get the Captain Kirk man, or something called Genesis. Cas scrunched his forehead, deep in thought as he watched the movie.

About an hour into the film, Dean inched closer to Cas, taking some of the blanket. Almost reluctantly, Cas rested his hand on Dean's leg under the blanket, absentmindedly running his thumb along the worn denim. He saw Dean glance over at him, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners on his lips. 

Cas wasn't paying attention to the movie at this point. He could feel the muscles in Dean's thigh tighten each time he moved his hand, and he couldn't stop himself from smiling. 

"What are you smiling about?" Dean finally asked, turning his attention from the movie to Cas. 

Cas moved his hand a bit higher on Dean's leg, causing Dean swallow loudly, "I enjoy your reactions to physical contact," Cas murmured, running his hand down the length of the inside of Dean's thigh, stopping just shy of the rapidly hardening, denim-clad bulge.

" _Fuck_ ," Dean shuddered, closing his eyes as Cas gently brushed his pinkie against his too-obvious erection. He had to stop himself from gasping when Cas repeated the motion, with the palm of his hand this time. 

Cas ran his hand over the front of Dean's jeans again, this time withdrawing his hand quickly as Dean bucked his hips, "Dean?" Cas whispered, somewhat worried that he may have over-stepped his boundary.

" _I think we should have popped in the porno_ ," Dean's voice was almost a growl as he leaned in, peppering kisses along Cas' stubbly jaw.

"You put too much faith in pornography," Cas turned so he could kiss Dean properly. 

Dean turned his whole body, his arm still around Cas, returning this kiss. His lips moved painfully slow against Cas', savoring every nuance of the angel's surprisingly soft lips. He ran his fingers gently through Cas' disheveled hair, still maintaining as much self control as he possibly could, teasing Cas' bottom lip with his tongue. If Cas wanted to play this game, Dean could certainly play it better.

Cas caught on to Dean's game immediately. Dean was always the overenthusiastic one, and for him to be teasing like this, Cas assumed it must be a weird game humans, who were intimately involved, played. Deciding to try his hand at this teasing thing, Cas broke the kiss for a moment, returning his hand to Dean's leg, chuckling quietly as Dean let out the most pathetic whine he'd ever heard, "what's that?" Cas nipping at Dean's lip, "I couldn't hear you."

" _Jesus_ , Cas," Dean groaned, as Cas' hand moved to his crotch again, this time with more pressure. 

"I'm not Jesus," Cas murmured, as seductively as he could manage, brushing his lips against Dean's. 

"You suck at talking dirty," Dean mused, shivering as Cas ran his thumb over the small wet spot now forming on his jeans, " _oh god_ ," a quiet moan escaped his throat as he reached for Cas' hand, holding it to his cock, "Cas," he breathed, "please."

"Tell me," Cas muttered, his voice ragged, desperate.

"I want," Dean kissed the tip of Cas' nose, breathless, rolling his hips into Cas' hand, still holding his hand in place, "this," he mouthed, his eyes closing, " _please_ ," his voice was almost pleading.

"This?" Cas closed his hand around the bulge, not entirely sure what he was doing anymore. He wasn't a virgin, but this was entirely new to him. Dean was coming undone, and seeing Dean this vulnerable was empowering. 

"Fuck, Cas," Dean's hips bucked on their own, "you're killing me, man," he whined, tightening his grip on Cas' hand.

Things were getting intense and Cas started to freeze up. His self control was diminishing and he could feel himself getting hard just from Dean's physical reactions, "I don't know what-"

Dean cut him off by kissing him hard on the lips, "it's okay," Dean breathed, breaking the kiss, "it's okay," he said again, moving to get up.

"What-"

"Shh," Dean pulled the blanket off of Cas and knelt down in front of him, "I'll show you, okay?" he rested his hand gently on Cas' thigh, glancing down at the tented sweatpants.

"I don't want to force-"

"You're not forcing me to do anything," Dean leaned forward, licking the tip of Cas' erection through the sweatpants, "I want this," he looked up at Cas, who was staring at him, wide-eyed, "is this okay?" 

Cas nodded fervently, unable to speak as Dean teased him with his tongue again. He inhaled deeply as Dean continued working his tongue against the sweatpants, unconscionably carding his fingers through Dean's hair, babbling quiet nonsense. He had only seen this happen in pornographic films, experiencing it was an entirely different experience. Decidedly better. 

Dean played with the hem of the pants, glancing up, "okay?" he asked, running his thumb along Cas' hip bone. 

"Okay," Cas managed to grunt, watching Dean run his tongue over his cock again, before tugging at the hem of the pants. Slowly lifting himself up, Cas let Dean pull the sweatpants down, a low growling moan escaping him as it brushed against his erection.  
Dean discarded the pants and leaned in between Cas' legs, "are you sure you're okay with this?" he asked, pressing a kiss against Cas' thigh.

"Yes," Cas was afraid to move. He sat still, almost statuesque, staring down at Dean.

"Relax then," Dean cautiously moved his hand to brush against Cas' cock, "I'll use my hand," he cooed, running his thumb over a bead of pre-cum forming at the tip.

Cas wasn't one for cursing, but he couldn't stop the slew of profanities from sneaking out when Dean finally wrapped his hand around the base of his hard-on. A low, blissful moan following as Dean slowly moved his fist toward the tip, "Jesus, fuck," Cas panted, a tingly, warm feeling rushing through his entire body.

"That's it," Dean repeated the motion a few more times, still moving excruciatingly slow, "don't hold back," Dean ran his thumb over the slit of Cas' cock again, making Cas shudder and groan several choice words.

"Dean," Cas mewled, his breathing staggered, "please, Dean."

"Tell me what you want, Cas," Dean bowed his head, flicking his tongue against the Cas' head.

Cas couldn't speak coherently. He was overwhelmed by so many emotions and sensations all at once, "please," he whined, "Dean...I...please," unable to utter a complete sentence.

"Do you like this?" Dean purred, running his tongue up the underside of Cas' erection, "Talk to me," he hummed, delicately licking up a trickle of pre-cum.

"Please...don't stop," Cas' voice was hoarse, his head tossed back against the couch, "Dean, please."

"I like when you beg," Dean swirled his tongue around the tip of Cas' dick.

"Oh, god...shit..." Cas' bucked his hips, causing Dean to move back and cock his eyebrow, "Dean, please," Cas groaned.

"Tell me," Dean grazed his teeth down Cas' length, thoroughly enjoying this sexy new side of Cas. 

"I need you," Cas pleaded, cupping his hand around the backside of Dean's neck.

Dean kissed his way back up the shaft of Cas' cock, "you need me to what?" he whispered, gingerly pressing his lips against the tip, smiling. 

Cas swallowed hard, "please don't make me-"

"Blowjob, Cas. Say it with me," Dean was smirking, stroking Cas lazily.

"What?" Cas cocked his head to the side, the angel part of him sneaking out. Dean had told Cas to blow him several times in the past, but it was usually the equivalent of being told to screw off. This was an entirely different scenario all together. He frowned, "Dean, why would I say that?"

Dean removed his hand from Cas and sat down on the floor, "You really have no idea what a blowjob is, Cas?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady so he wouldn't laugh. Dean always seemed to forget that Cas was naive to a lot of human...customs. What made Cas' inquiry even more entertaining was that he was completely nude, with an utterly confused expression on his face. 

"What is your fascination with blowing? You tell me to blow you all the time, Dean," Cas' breathing was steady now, totally torn from the moment they were having, "is this what you had in mind all the times you told me to blow you?" he asked, his eyes widening a little.

"Jeez, Cas, you sure know how to kill a moment," Dean joked, standing up to sit next to Cas on the couch. He glanced at the screen to see the iconic scene of The Wrath of Khan where Spock gives up his life to save the Enterprise, not looking for long to avoid getting pulled into the film again. He turned his attention back to Cas, who had pulled the blanket over his lap again, "hey, I'm sorry, buddy...I didn't mean to say it like that."

"You're right," Cas looked frustrated, then his cheeks started flushing red as he looked over at Dean, "am I a tease like those women in the pornographic films, Dean?" he asked quietly.

The question caught Dean off guard and he couldn't think fast enough to stop himself from laughing, "what the fuck kind of question is that?" he choked out, "Cas, do you even know what a tease is?"

"Not entirely," Cas admitted, still looking agitated, "I assume it's derogatory." 

Dean sighed, "you're not a tease," he assured Cas, reaching for his hand, "we have two whole weeks of being stuck together and I'm a good teacher," Dean added, winking.

"Thank you, Dean," Cas finally relaxing a little, "I'm sorry I ruined the moment and distracted you from Star Trek," he smiled apologetically, squeezing Dean's hand.

"It was a good distraction," Dean leaned over and kissed Cas' cheek, "for the record, if you want me to use my mouth, you just need to ask," he murmured, nipping at Cas' earlobe, grinning when Cas shivered. 

"Is it too late to ask?" Cas turned to Dean, "I tried before...but I couldn't seem to speak properly. There was too many sensations all at once..."

"Pleasure," Dean offered, ghosting kisses along Cas' shoulder, "that's what you were feeling."

"It was overwhelming," Cas noted, "more so with you than with April."

Dean rested his chin on Cas' shoulder, "that hot reaper chick?"

"She was attractive," Cas zoned out for a moment, immersing himself in the memory before bringing himself back to the present, "my type is more Dean Winchester though."

"That was the smoothest thing you've ever said," Dean mused, "bravo, Cas. I taught you well."

"That wasn't flattery. That was fact," Cas put his arm around Dean, absentmindedly running his thumb over the stitching of Dean's t-shirt sleeve, "you make me feel whole, if that makes any sense," he said wistfully, "the things you've made me feel used to confuse me," he looked down at their laced fingers, "but I'm not confused about those feelings anymore. I didn't think I was capable of love until you came along."

"I don't know what to say," Dean said, staring at Cas, genuinely unable to think of the right thing to say. All his life he prided himself on being emotionally shut off, but over the past few days being in close proximity to Cas, he's talked about his feelings more times than he had in the past thirty-something years. Cas may have been naive about sex, but Dean was naive when it came to raw emotions. 

"You could say that you feel the same," Cas suggested, kissing Dean's forehead.

"I could," Dean glanced at Cas, a smirk forming on his lips, "or I could go wash our pizza plates," he tried standing up but Cas tightened his grip on Dean's shoulder, the hand print, to be exact, "I was just kidding!" he brushed an apologetic kiss on Cas' jaw.

"I was being serious, Dean," Cas looked hurt.

"Dammit, Cas," Dean sighed dramatically, "you know I'm no good with this shit."

"Forget I said anything then," Cas muttered, using Dean's shoulder as leverage to stand up. He gathered his sweatpants off the floor, and with a little difficulty and a pained grimace, he managed to get them on. Without another word to Dean, he grabbed the used plates and left the room.

Dean watched Cas leave, letting the door close as he left. He wanted to punch himself in the face for being such an insufferable douche bag to the one person who loved him unconditionally. It was a natural instinct for Dean to turn an emotionally compromising situation into a joke, half the time he didn't do it on purpose. He wasn't the type to be all lovey-dovey, but he tried with Cas. He was still trying, but it was difficult when Cas was just as insecure about this relationship as he was. 

"I'll make it up to you, Cas," Dean whispered, leaving the room to go find Cas.


	11. The Chapter With The Plot Twist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas and Dean have a much-needed chat, new information is revealed to Cas in a dream and something with the plan goes terribly wrong, something that has the potential to change the outcome of the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this broke 300 views. I never expected it. Thank you so much. This is quite a short chapter, but trust me, the plot will start picking up after this. :)

When Dean found Cas, he was standing in front of the sink washing the plates, humming to himself. Dean stood in the doorway, not sure if he should say anything or just leave. He chewed his lip before finally getting the courage to say something, "Cas...I'm sorry," his voice was low, almost a whisper.

Cas ignored him, rinsing the last plate off before shutting the water off. He grabbed a towel and dried his hands, turning around to face Dean. He wasn't staring at Dean; he was staring through him. His face was emotionless, if not a little sad. He didn't look at Dean as he walked out of the kitchen, which made Dean flinch. 

"Cas, come on," Dean followed Cas down the hall, to the bedroom they were sharing, "Cas, can you just look at me?" he pleaded, watching Cas turn down the blankets of the bed before climbing in, facing the opposite direction of Dean, "Cas?" he felt his cheeks burning, a lump starting to rise in his throat. 

There was no response. Cas pulled the blankets up, almost entirely over his head. Dean stood in the middle of the room staring at the lump of blankets. He didn't know what to do. Usually a joke and an apology sufficed, but this time Dean knew he'd fucked up royally. He sighed in defeat, "I'll go sleep in the other room then," he mumbled, walking back toward the door, "For what it's worth, I really am sorry for being an asshole," he said before leaving the room, shutting the door behind him. 

Dean decided to sleep in the vacant room, because taking Sam or Kevin's room seemed like blasphemy. The room was very plain, but at least there was a king sized bed with an inviting comforter and pillows on it. He glanced at the analog alarm clock, and decided that despite it being only nine at night, he was going to sleep until he physically couldn't sleep anymore. 

The bed was surprisingly comfortable, even though it smelled stale from disuse. He wrapped himself in the blankets and managed to get comfortable after tossing around for several minutes. When he was cozy, he reached out of his blanket cocoon and flipped the table lamp off. When the room was dark, he kicked his jeans off to the bottom of the bed and hugged a pillow to his chest. 

It was strange to be sleeping alone, even though he'd only shared a bed with Cas for a couple of nights. He couldn't stop shifting around, reaching out for someone who wasn't there. Sighing, he rolled on his back and stared into the darkness. In an attempt to coax himself to sleep, he closed his eyes and tried to relax. His mind wouldn't let him doze off. It kept bringing up Cas. 

After an indeterminate amount of time, Dean thought he heard footsteps outside the door. Quickly he turned on his side and faced the opposite wall, pretending to be asleep. The door clicked open and the dim light from the hallway cast a familiar shadow on the wall. He didn't say anything, even when the bed dipped. A familiar body pressed up against his back, a familiar arm draped around his waist, and still he couldn't bring himself to speak. Stubble brushed along the back of Dean's neck, and he relaxed a little, still pretending to be asleep.

"I know you're not asleep," Cas whispered, running his thumb along Dean's hip bone, "I couldn't sleep either."

Dean reached for Cas' hand, still not sure of what to say. He couldn't blame Cas for being upset, hell, he probably would have done the same thing. In a way he felt guilty that Cas had seemingly forgiven him so easily. He squeezed Cas' hand reassuringly, "does this mean I'm forgiven?" he asked quietly.

"There's nothing to forgive," Cas murmured, letting his lips graze along Dean's neck, "I was being unfairly selfish," he added, hugging Dean closer, "you were just being yourself."

"I was being a douche bag," Dean interjected.

"You were being yourself," Cas repeated himself, trailing his lips along Dean's hairline.

"Did you just call me a douche bag?" Dean shivered when Cas nibbled at his earlobe.

"Yes, but you're _my_ douche bag, Dean."

"I can't believe you called me a douche bag," Dean mused, turning onto his other side so he could face Cas, even though he could see him in the dark, "I really am sorry," he said, lowering his voice, cupping Cas' cheek in his hand, "I shouldn't have done that."

"Your imperfections are part of why I love you," Cas said simply, leaning into Dean's caress, "so perfectly imperfect," he sighed happily, "my douche bag."

"Okay, is douche bag going to turn into a pet name? Because I think you like that phrase a little too much," Dean was smiling again, hesitant to pull Cas closer for a kiss. 

"I would never name a pet douche bag," Cas sounded serious.

"No...not an actual pet name, I meant: are you going to call me douche bag as a term of endearment?" Dean leaned in a little closer, stroking Cas' cheek with his thumb.

"I would much rather call you Dean," Cas whispered, closing the distance to kiss Dean, letting his lips linger for a moment as he spoke again, "unless you'd prefer to be called Dr Sexy."

Dean smiled against Cas' lips, "I ain't got shit on Dr Sexy," he pressed their lips together again, "how do you know about Dr Sexy?" he asked, breaking the kiss.

"Dean, you watch it constantly. I'm an angel. Just because you can't see me, doesn't mean I'm not there," Cas admitted, "I used to watch it with you when you were living with Lisa."

"That's creepy," Dean said, trying to scoff at the painful memories of all those months he went without Cas and Sam, "you could have let me know you were there." 

"I wanted to show myself, but I couldn't. You were happy, Dean. I was happy you were happy...but I missed you. The only time I could be alone with you was when you had your Dr Sexy marathons," Cas explained, his voice pained, "I'll admit I was jealous of Lisa and Ben. You don't know how badly I wanted to be there with you..."

"I wasn't happy," Dean kissed the tip of Cas' nose, "how could you think I was happy?"

"You were," Cas insisted.

"Maybe on the outside," Dean moved his hand from Cas' cheek, carding it through the angel's dark, disheveled hair, "on the inside I was empty...yeah, I missed Sam and that was part of it. But without you, Cas...I was fucking lost. I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about you every single day. I prayed to you, man. You didn't answer. Did you really stay away because you thought I was happy without you? Because I wasn't." 

"I came to see you almost every day, even though you were unaware of it," Cas sighed, "I almost caved a few times and revealed myself. Even back then, I would have done anything to be involved with you the way we're involved right now," he snuggled up against Dean's chest, pressing a kiss on Dean's tattoo to prove his point, "I did think you had found happiness in normalcy. But I refused to give up hope that if it was meant to be, it would happen. I had faith."

"Having faith in a Winchester? That's bad mojo, Cas," Dean said quietly, still absentmindedly playing with Cas' hair, "it's not in our blood to have happy endings."

"You have an angel looking over you," Cas whispered, trailing his lips along Dean's collar bone, "no matter what happens when we face Metatron, I will be with you until the end."

"We'll see how you feel about me while you're stuck here for the next two weeks," Dean chuckled, "you might change you mind," he added jokingly.

"That isn't funny," Cas hugged Dean closer, "it's my privilege to be locked down with you. For a while, I've hoped to get the chance to spend more time with you. I believe this has been a good start."

Dean smiled, but couldn't help feeling undeserving of Cas' affection. Still, he never thought he'd find anyone who loved him in such an unconditional way. What's more is he felt exactly the same way, "you'll really be there until the end?" 

"Until the end of everything," Cas nuzzled into the nape of Dean's neck, relaxing, "I promise."

Dean shifted both of them into a more comfortable position, laying down. Cas was resting against his chest, spooning his side, holding Dean's leg captive between his own. After managing to wrangle a pillow to lay on, Dean hugged Cas to him and exhaled blissfully, letting his eyes close. The last thought on his mind was Cas whispering. 

_"Until the end of everything. I promise."_

\---

_Cas stood in an eerily bright field. It wasn't like the field he'd had the run-in with Metatron, there was something pure about the light casting a the strange glow on everything; he thought he must be in heaven. But who's heaven was he in?_

_The sound of birds singing surrounded him, he couldn't help but feel at peace despite how bright everything was. The breeze was balmy and smelled like wildflowers. Cas smiled in spite of himself, unable to resist sitting on the grass. He was reminded of the time he collected honey as single honey bee buzzed past him._

_"Hello, Castiel," a familiar voice enveloped Cas. It was all around him._

_"D-Dean?" Cas didn't know where to look as he stood up again._

_"Technically, yes, but also no," the voice was had a calming effect, Cas loved Dean's voice. Everything about Dean._

_A hand on Cas' shoulder made him jump, as he turned to find who the hand belonged to. Although it was Dean's voice, he was still surprised to see Dean standing there. But there was something off about him, "You're not Dean," he said cautiously, "but I know you."_

_The Dean doppelganger smiled. It wasn't malevolent, just a genuine, friendly smile, "you're afraid," he said softly, "don't be afraid, Castiel."_

_Cas knew who this was. It hit him like a wave, "Father," he mouthed, staring wide-eyed at him, "why do you look like Dean?"_

_"I took the form of the person you trust and love most," God/Dean was still smiling, reaching out to touch Cas' shoulder, "Dean Winchester is a good man, whether he believes it or not."_

_Cas nodded slowly, in agreement, "I agree. He doesn't see himself the way I see him. I don't like the feeling I have when he speaks so poorly of himself," he said, frowning to himself, "humans are complicated. But I also kind of understand now that I'm almost human."_

_"This is why you are the best suited of my children to fix heaven," God squeezed Cas' shoulder, his smile not faltering, "and if I were to choose anyone in the universe to be with you until the end, it would be Dean Winchester."_

_"Will we succeed?" Cas asked reluctantly._

_"Success is in the eye of the beholder. I believe that together you and Dean can accomplish so much more than either of you would alone."_

_"But will we be able to get rid of Metatron?" Cas sighed sadly, still thinking that destroying Metatron was utterly impossible._

_"Let me ask you this: if you're with Dean until the end, does it really matter what ending plays out?"_

_Cas was thoughtful for a moment, "I guess it doesn't matter," he said slowly,"why are you telling me this? I disobeyed orders by rescuing Dean, I always assumed you were upset about it."_

_"My orders were to rescue Dean Winchester, not destroy him," God's smiled faded ever-so-slightly, "the orders you received were not from me."_

_Cas stared, gaping, "Metatron."_

_"His duties have corrupted him. He didn't agree with my plan for Dean and tried to hinder it."_

_"Plan?" Cas asked, "To be Michael's vessel?"_

_"I can't tell you that now," God smiled again, "you will find out soon enough. Stay with Dean. It is of utmost important that you remain together," he paused for a moment, and chuckled to himself._

_"Father?" Cas cocked his head to the side, confused as to what was funny._

_"You know, I never expected your bond with Dean to grow this strong, this fast," God mused._

_"You created me for Dean," Cas said quietly, unquestioning._

_"I created Dean for you," God corrected, "my last angel. The most unique and the most human of my children. For thousands of years I saw that you were an outcast. Your sadness couldn't be hidden. I knew you felt alone. Dean was bound to you, and you to him, the moment he was conceived."_

_"Soul mates," Cas said to himself, then looked at his father, "Dean and I are soul mates?"_

_"Much more profound than that, but you knew that," God smiled._

_"It's indescribable," Cas murmured, a more important question creeping into his mind, "can I ask why you came to me in a dream?"_

_"To tell you the truth and heal you. I know you're weak and I don't want to be found. This was the only option," God paused for a moment, as if listening to someone, "I'm afraid our time is coming to an end, Castiel," He said suddenly, "promise me you'll stay with Dean. Promise you'll-"_

**"RISE AND SHINE, LADIES!"**

Gabriel's voice ripped Cas out of the dream, he felt Dean scrambling to sit up, accidentally elbowing him in the stomach. He immediately pressed his hand on the spot where he elbow him, "oh fuck, I'm sorry Cas!" Dean looked horrified.

"I'm fine," Cas assured him, still half-asleep.

"Aren't you two just adorable," Gabriel folded his arms, smirking.

"What do you want?" Dean rubbed his eyes, "I was sleeping, you dick."

Cas stared at Gabriel, "how are you here?" 

"Nice to see you too, Castiel," Gabriel rolled his eyes, "don't look so happy to see me," he snorted, looking to Dean, "Dean-o, there's been a change of plans."

"Well don't keep us in suspense," Dean mumbled, still grumpy from being woken up.

"I have orders to keep you two idiots safe," Gabriel strolled over to the leather chair in the corner of the room and sat down, making himself comfortable, "you're to stay here until I say you can leave. Got it?"

"Alright," Dean scowled at Gabriel, "but what about the plan with Crowley and finding God and shit?" 

"Not your concern right now," Gabriel said smugly before suddenly freezing, "fuck," Gabriel got up, cursing a few more times a bit louder, causing the one of the light bulbs in the room to burst.

"What's wrong with you, chuckles?" Dean watched Gabriel pitching a fit.

"Something's gone wrong," Cas whispered, "Gabriel, what is it?"

"They're coming," Gabriel stared, wide-eyed at them, "Gadreel told Metatron your location."

"What do we do?" Dean pulled his jeans on, under the blanket.

"Both of you need to get out of here. Now. No time to grab shit," Gabriel ran over to them, "don't try to find your way back. I'll get you," he gently touched their arms and everything whited out.


	12. The Great Outdoors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel manages to save Cas and Dean, but at what cost?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the halfway point of this fic gets nearer, I'm thrilled to to have all of you along for the ride. I know it's a pain in the butt to read something that's a work in progress, so kudos to all of you for your patience and kind words! It's appreciated.

When Dean came to, he was shivering and smelled dirt. It was still dark outside when he opened his eyes and glanced around. He couldn't see Cas in his line of vision, so he sat up and looked behind him, "Cas?" he called out, slowly standing up.

_Where the fuck did Gabe bamf us?_ Dean asked himself, taking in his current location: a forest. Literally in the middle of nowhere. Dean started down the path he'd woken up on, feeling on edge in the woods after all the hunting trips he'd had that involved forests. He just wanted to find Cas, and get the hell out of here.

As he was walking down the path, Dean felt a small rush of energy and froze in his steps, "what the fuck was that?" he thought out loud, glancing in the direction the energy came from, "well I'll be damned," he mused, seeing Cas, curled up on his side, sleeping next to a large oak tree. 

Since it was still dark out, Dean decided not to wake Cas. He laid on the ground next to him, snuggling his way into Cas' arms. Dealing with the forest bullshit could wait until the morning. Right now he really just wanted to sleep off this horrible headache. It must have been something Gabriel did, Dean thought, dozing off almost instantly.

\---

"Dean," Cas shook Dean's shoulder, "wake up."

Dean rolled on his back, rubbing his eyes, "five more minutes," he mumbled, hiding his face in his hands.

"Dean, wake up," Cas said adamantly, "please," he added for good measure.

"Okay, I'm up," Dean yawned as he sat up, blinking tiredly at Cas, "what do you want?"

Cas nodded to Dean's right, his face grim, "something's gone wrong," he whispered.

Dean reluctantly looked to where Cas nodded, only to see Gabriel sitting cross-legged on the ground. This wasn't the normal Gabriel Dean was accustomed to, this Gabriel didn't have any trace of a smirk on his face, "what's wrong, Gabriel?" Dean asked, moving to get up, but as he did, Gabriel held up his hand to stop him, "what-"

"Okay, my turn," Gabriel said quietly, finally looking at Cas and Dean. His usual bright honey-colored eyes were now dull and lifeless, "I hate that I can't make some joke about all this and we could all crack a couple of beers and laugh, but the reality is, I'm just about done for," he said solemnly, "Metatron destroyed the bunker, so don't try going back. And before you ask about your little demon butt buddy, Crowley is accounted for. He knows the plan and has the weapon to kill Abaddon," Gabriel's voice was barely a whisper and he was slumping where he sat, "all you idiots need to do is go with the flow. Can you do that?" 

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Dean asked gruffly, standing up.

"It means I zapped you dicks here for a reason and you'll figure it out soon enough," Gabriel looked down at his hands. A soft blue glow was pouring from his finger tips. Sighing, he closed his eyes for a moment, before looking up at Cas and Dean, "well, this is it," Gabriel grinned finally, a glint of mischievousness in his eyes.

"What? No, let us help you, Gabe," Dean took a step toward Gabriel, but Cas grabbed his arm and yanked him back, "Cas, let-" 

"Dean close your eyes," Cas covered Dean's eyes with his hand, just as a radiant, burst of blue light filled the forest, sending a wave of energy surging through them. The words, "Hasta la Vista, bitches," echoed through the trees before the light died down and Cas dropped his hand.

Dean stared at the spot where Gabriel had just been sitting, "We have to find Metatron," he said in a husky voice, "I'm done waiting."

"Metatron didn't kill Gabriel," Cas wrapped his arms around Dean's waist, "Gabriel sacrificed himself in order to get us to safety and then came back to supply us with information. He told us before that he had limited Grace." 

Dean frowned, not wanting to accept that one of their few allies was dead. Again. "So, what do we know? Other than the fact that the closest thing I had to a home is now a pile of dust," Dean said sighing. 

"I'm sorry the bunker was destroyed," Cas hugged Dean close to him, trying to change the subject, "perhaps we can find a new home after everything."

"That sounds nice," Dean relaxed a little, closing his eyes, "we'll even have a guest room for Sammy," he paused for a moment, "if we get him back."

"We will," Cas promised, "or die trying."

"I won't let you die," Dean wriggled out of Cas' embrace, "and don't you go sacrificing yourself either, okay?" 

"I'll do what's necessary," Cas folded his arms, wishing he had a shirt. Despite having Grace again, being shirtless made him feel vulnerable.

"You're a real pain in my ass sometimes," Dean complained, looking around, "Alright. So. We're in the middle of the fucking woods. Where are we going to find shelter?" Dean asked, visibly annoyed by the circumstances.

"There's something familiar about this place," Cas said suddenly, narrowing his eyes as he looked down the path, "I've been here before."

"What?" Dean turned to face Cas again.

"I know why Gabriel sent us here," Cas said cryptically, strolling off toward the path.

Dean really didn't have another choice, so he followed Cas. The woods were buzzing with life which made Dean relax a little, since birds didn't sing when monsters were nearby. He assumed he didn't have to worry about a Wendigo or anything. At least not yet. 

After what seemed like hours, Dean was getting fed up, "Cas, where the hell are we?" he asked, planting his feet on the ground, "I'm not moving until you tell me what's up."

Cas stopped and turned around, "Dean, trust me. We're almost there," he said, offering his hand to Dean.

Dean glanced down at Cas' hand, "no," he said stubbornly, "what's going on?"

Sighing, Cas walked back to Dean and placed his hand on Dean's shoulder, "I can't tell you what's going on, Dean," he said apologetically, "I just need you to trust me."

Dean slumped his shoulders in defeat. He promised Gabriel he'd trust Cas, and now Cas was asking his trust, there was no way he could break his promise to Gabriel. He'd be a dick if he did now that Gabriel was gone, "I trust you," Dean said quietly, half-smiling, "lead the way, Cas."

They walked silently through the trees; Dean still on guard, Cas with a content smile playing his lips. A light just down the path was getting brighter as they got closer. Dean assumed it was clearing, and he welcomed the sun. It was cool in the shadows and having been zapped here wearing only jeans and a thin t-shirt, he was feeling chilly. 

About twenty feet from the clearing, Cas stopped, holding out his arm like a soccer mom to stop Dean from going any further, "Dean, this isn't what I expected," he whispered, "we're walking into a trap."

"Are you sure?" Dean instinctively reached for his pocket, but there was no gun or other weapon, "What do we do?"

"You're going to follow my lead," Cas was still staring ahead, "we have no weapons, so we can't just charge in there."

"What are you talking about? Who the hell is waiting for us?" Dean hated when Cas was so vague.

"Gadreel." 

Dean's stomach dropped, he felt like he was going to be sick, "Gadreel? What the f-"

"Dean, shut up," Cas hissed, "he wants me. I can hear him."

"Then I'm going in," Dean took a step toward Cas, "we need to get Sam back and not get you killed in the process. This is all on me."

"Dean-"

"No. This is my fucking fault," Dean grabbed Cas' shoulder, "I need to try and talk to Sammy."

"I know a sigil," Cas finally risked a glance at Dean, "if you can distract Gadreel long enough, I can carve the sigil. Maybe we can get Sam to expel Gadreel from his body."

"Oh no," Dean argued, "you're not doing that again. You're still not better, Cas. Don't be stupid. That sigil didn't even work the first time."

"I'm fine now, Dean," Cas rested his hand over Dean's.

"No," Dean shook his head, "you're going to show me the sigil and I'm going to go in by myself."

"Your Enochian is terrible, Dean. Why do you think the sigil didn't work?" Cas raised an eyebrow, "Let me."

Reluctantly, Dean gave in, "what's the plan?"

"Talk to Gadreel. He won't kill you. You're the one Metatron is ultimately after. He'll need you alive," Cas turned to face Dean, his eyes concerned, "but don't piss him off."

Dean nodded, "what are you going to do?"

"Sneak in and hope the sigil works," Cas leaned in an kissed Dean, his lips lingering as he spoke again, "promise me you won't do anything stupid," he mumbled, pressing his lips against Dean's again.

Dean was caught off guard with the kiss, and had to catch his breath, "nothing stupid," he breathed, "I'll try," he wrapped his arms around Cas, pulling him close so he could kiss him again, "don't you do anything stupid either," he said, running his thumb along Cas' spine.

Cas brushed his lips along Dean's once more, "you'll only have a minute at most to talk to Sam if it works," Cas whispered, "and if it doesn't work..." his words trailed off as his mind took in every possible outcome of the situation.

"It'll work," Dean kissed Cas' cheek, "I trust you, Cas," he said, not ready to let go yet.

Cas nuzzled his face into the crook of Dean's neck, "I love you," he mumbled against Dean's skin.

Dean swallowed loudly, trying to get rid of the painful lump rising in his throat. He knew this could be the last time he saw Cas. If things went awry, he could be dead in the next few minutes, or worse, Cas could. He didn't realize he was crying until he felt Cas caress his cheek, looking worried, "sorry," Dean sniffed, wiping his eyes on his arm, "sorry, Cas."

"I know what's on your mind," Cas wiped another tear from Dean's cheek, "and there's a good chance we won't come out of this together. But like I said before, I will be there with you until the end. Now go before Gadreel finds us first."

Dean let go of Cas, "be careful," he warned.

"You too," Cas offered one last affectionate peck on the lips before turning to go, but Dean grabbed his hand.

"Wait," Dean croaked, "I love you, Cas," he squeezed Cas' hand, "if we get out of this, I promise I'll prove it to you."

"You already have," Cas said, beaming, "so don't kill the moment."

"Hypocrite, much?" Dean winked at Cas, "I'll buy you as much time as I can," he said before sauntering down the path, keeping his eyes peeled for Gadreel. 

As he walked out into the sunlight, he found himself in a field. If the circumstances were different, he probably would have thought it was beautiful. But he had other things on his mind than his surroundings, "okay, Gadreel, where the hell are you?" he said in a low voice, looking around.

"Dean Winchester," Sam's familiar voice broke the silence, it sounded surprised.

"You know, Gadreel, I have a bone to pick with you," Dean said nonchalantly, turning to face the angel possessing his brother, "why did you lie to me about who you were?"

"My identity was none of your business," Gadreel stood a few steps away from Dean, glancing around, "where is Castiel?" he asked, his voice cautious.

Dean shrugged, "I was hoping you could tell me," he folded his arms, "I got angel-zapped here and I ran into you."

"You're lying," Gadreel said dryly.

"Maybe," Dean said smugly, unable to stop himself from smirking, "but you would know since you're a liar too."

"I could kill you," Gadreel still didn't move from his spot, still keeping an eye on Dean. He was inside of a Winchester, he knew better than to underestimate one.

"Yeah, you could," Dean strolled over to a rock and sat down, "but if you were going to, you would have done it already. I'm not too worried. So let's talk business."

Gadreel narrowed his eyes, "you're unarmed, I don't think I have to listen to you."

"I think you probably should," Dean raised an eyebrow, "so why don't you get the hell out of Sam?"

The corner of Gadreel's mouth twitched, "that's up to Sam," he mused, "and he's busy right now."

"So you want to do this the hard way?" Dean chuckled darkly.

Gadreel frowned, "you're really pompous for someone so fragile," he took a careful step toward Dean, who in return laughed again, "I fail to see what's so funny-"

"Gadreel," Cas yelled from behind, surprising Gadreel into turning to face him. Muttering a few words in Enochian, Cas pressed the palm of his hand against the crude sigil carved on his stomach. A blinding, white light erupted from the sigil, and when it faded, Sam's body wavered for a moment before collapsing.

"Sam!" Dean bolted over to the body and knelt down next to it, "Hey, Sammy?"

Sam's eyes fluttered opened, "Dean?" he asked weakly.

"Yeah, it's me Sammy, listen," Dean grabbed Sam's shoulder, "you're being possessed by an angel, Gadreel, and you need to remember this and tell him to get the hell out of you."

"I'm what?" Sam sat up, "Are you kidding me, Dean?"

"Sammy, please, just trust me," Dean pleaded, "I'll apologize when you're back but please, you need to find Gadreel in your mind and force him out."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about, we're working a case," Sam said, confused.

"Remember, Sammy. You have to remember everything that Gadreel has done and kick his ass out of you," Dean shook Sam's shoulder, "promise me, Sam. You don't have much time before he takes over again."

Sam frowned at Dean, "Dean, I..." his expression became emotionless, "that was a bad idea, Dean," Gadreel said, taking control again. He grabbed the front of Dean's shirt and pulled him up, "you know that Sam isn't strong enough," he let go of Dean's shirt, clenching his fist.

"I think you're underestimating my brother," Dean grabbed Gadreel's arm, "come on, Sammy, cast this angel dick out!"

Gadreel immediately punched Dean hard in the chest, sending him flying several feet. He hit the ground hard, cringing in pain, vaguely hearing Cas yell his name, but he couldn't respond. The wind had been knocked out of him, so he just laid still on the ground, trying to catch his breath. 

"Dean!" Cas' voice was hoarse and panicked.

Dean looked up, still wheezing, just in time to see Gadreel rounding on him, quiet fury in his eyes. Without hesitation, Gadreel kicked Dean in the face as hard as he could. But, before he could reach down and pick Dean up to get another punch in, Cas grabbed Gadreel's shirt and yanked him backwards. 

"Don't you touch him," Cas warned, throwing Gadreel on the ground. Even half-naked, Cas wasn't a force to be reckoned with.

"You're much stronger than the last time we met," Gadreel mused, getting up, "not that it matters. I have strict orders and I intend to obey them," he took a step toward Cas, catching his blade that appeared from his shirt sleeve, "the only one Metatron wants alive is The Prophet."

" _The_ Prophet?" Cas stared, gaping at Gadreel, "So that means..."

Gadreel gripped his knife, "not for long," in a quick movement, he grabbed Cas and held the blade to his throat, "do you have any last words, Castiel?"

Dean tried to sit up, but his head was spinning and he tasted blood. He knew there was no way he could get to Cas in time, so he watched in horror as the blade pressed into Cas' skin. He met Cas' apologetic eyes and mouthed, "it's okay. I love you."

"Well?" Gadreel nicked Cas' throat, making Cas hiss in pain.

"I do," Cas said evenly, "Dean," he looked over at Dean, laying on the ground, "I'll see you in heaven," he exhaled and closed his eyes, "and Sam, I'm sorry I couldn't help you," he added quietly, "get it over with, Gadreel."

Gadreel's hand was starting to shake as he tried to press the blade down harder against Cas' throat. The harder he tried to take control of his hand, the more it shook, until he finally dropped the knife all together, "no..." Gadreel whispered before a cloud of blue light came spilling from his vessel's mouth.

Sam dropped his grip around Cas and stumbled backwards, landing on his ass, "Cas?" he was visibly confused, "Dean?" 

"Sam?" Cas slowly bent over to pick the blade up off the ground, he pointed it in Sam's direction.

"It's me," Sam held up his hands, "I promise."

"Sammy," Dean groaned, holding his hand against the bleeding cut on his cheek from being kicked, "are you okay?" Sam nodded and Dean smiled weakly.

Cas immediately dropped the blade and went to Dean's side, "I'm sorry this happened," he said softly, gently pressing his index and middle finger to Dean's forehead, instantly healing him. 

Dean sat up and looked at the rapidly healing sigil on Cas' stomach, "do I even want to know how you managed that without a knife?" he asked, running his hand over the mark.

Cas shook his head, "probably not," he took Dean's hand and laced their fingers together, "but at least it worked."

"You cut it kind of close there," Dean frowned, "I thought I told you not to sacrifice yourself."

"And I thought I told you not to piss him off," Cas kissed Dean's knuckles, "but it's over now."

Sam cleared his throat, "so," he didn't really know what to say, but he was genuinely baffled over this new affectionate relationship Cas and Dean seemed to have. When did that happen? He wondered. 

"Sam," Dean dropped Cas' hand and got up, "so, I guess I should apologize," he offered Sam his hand and helped him up.

"Maybe tell me what happened first," Sam said, still not fully sure why he was in a forest or why Cas didn't have a shirt on. 

"You were dying...so I did what I had to do," Dean chose his words carefully, "which meant having an angel cozy up inside you to heal all the damage from the tasks."

"You let an angel possess me," Sam raised an eyebrow.

"For what it's worth, Gadreel said he was Ezekiel," Cas chimed in, "and Ezekiel, before he died in the fall, was a good soul."

Sam nodded, trying to contain the anger that was boiling up inside him, "okay, so, you let some random angel hop inside me," it wasn't a question, "what did I miss while I was MIA?"

"What's the last thing you remember?" Dean asked cautiously.

Sam was thoughtful for a minute, "I...remember leaving to go to the store," he closed his eyes, concentrating, "it's blurry. Like a dream. I'm seeing everything through someone else's eyes."

"What do you see?" Cas joined Dean and Sam, "Did you meet anyone?"

"Gadreel was in league with Metatron," Sam said finally, opening his eyes, "I remember him handing me a piece of paper with writing on it. I think it said," he froze, "Dean, where's Kevin?"

Dean's eyes widened, "Sam. That's not on you," he said, knowing what he brother was seeing, "don't you dare blame yourself."

"I killed Kevin, Dean."

"Kevin died because I wasn't there to protect him," Dean said adamantly, "his blood is on my hands so you can stop blaming yourself right now." 

"I saw it happen and I didn't do anything," Sam turned away from Dean and Cas.

"But it was my fault it even happened in the first place," Dean argued, "I know you're pissed off at me right now, but we need your help."

"What else did I miss?" Sam asked, still not facing Dean.

"Look, I'll catch you up, but we really need to find somewhere safe to hide out," Dean glanced at Cas, "can you zap us out of here?"

Cas shook his head, "I need a couple of days to rest."

"Great," Sam mumbled, sitting down on the grass.

"Well," Dean shrugged, "looks like we're going to Bear Grylls this shit for a few days then."

Cas looked horrified, "Dean, we're not grilling any bears. We don't have any weapons...or a grill."

Sam snorted and it echoed across the field. Dean started chuckling, which turned into both Sam and Dean raucously laughing with tears in their eyes. 

Cas still didn't understand why grilling a bear was so funny.


	13. Dean Winchester Has A Perfect Ass, Pass It On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Sam back, the boys brace for an impromptu camping trip, which gets interrupted by Crowley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes, this chapter took a while for me to finish. I apologize. But, thank you for your continued support! I appreciate all the kind words, kudos and bookmarks. You're all superstars. :)

After deciding the field wasn't the safest place to set up a makeshift camp, the trio made their way back into the woods. Eventually, they found a small clump of pine trees with low-hanging branches that would keep them hidden for the most part. Cas watched as Dean and Sam bent and broke branches to create a roof-like canopy over a bed of dry leaves and pine needles just big enough for the three of them, "is there anything I can help with?" he asked, impressed at the dexterity of the brothers working together. 

"I'm starving," Dean said, grunting as he propped a particularly large branch under the roof for support.

"I don't think we should make a fire, Dean," Sam lifted the roof a little to help Dean, "it'll be easier to spot us."

"You're right," Dean frowned, "I guess we're eating rabbit food for the next few days," he said solemnly, "but the second we get back to civilization I'm getting a bacon cheeseburger. I don't care what we have to do. Cheeseburger before work, okay?"

Sam laughed, "that's fine with me," he set the roof on the supporting branch and stepped back to admire his and Dean's work, "home sweet home," he joked, forgetting Cas was still waiting for an answer, "Hey Cas, why don't you see if there's any edible plants around here? I'm sure you know more about that stuff than Dean and I."

Cas nodded, "I'll see what I can do," he glanced at Dean, who smiled at him, before he left them to finish the shelter. 

When Cas was out of sight, Sam turned to Dean, who had taken a seat under the roof, "can we talk?" Sam asked, joining Dean.

"What's up?" Dean asked, looking at Sam, feeling his pulse elevate. 

"When Gadreel I was inside of me," Sam paused, inhaling, "I saw Kevin die...I was there when Metatron destroyed the bunker-"

"Sam, you don't need to tell me all that," Dean interrupted, "all that shit is my fault. You weren't you when those things happened. Just let it be."

Sam folded his arms, "you promised you'd tell me what I missed."

"You really want to know? After you left, things weren't great," Dean picked up a leaf, twirling it in his fingers, "I was alone, Sammy. I didn't know what to do next. For a week I just laid around, praying for something good to happen. Finally Cas showed up." 

"I was going to ask you about that, actually," Sam watched Dean playing with the leaf, "I couldn't help noticing you guys are sort of...close."

Dean shot a side glance at Sam, "and?"

"I didn't mean anything by it," Sam said apologetically, "It's good. I'm glad you guys are finally being honest with yourselves."

"What?" Dean finally turned to look at Sam.

"Come on, Dean. I see the way you guys look at each other. I've known how you felt about Cas since the first time I saw you together," Sam smiled, "so how did you guys finally confess your undying love for one another?"

"You're such a dick," Dean chuckled, punching Sam playfully in the arm, "you make it sound like a Lifetime movie."

"Watching you two is cheesier than a Lifetime movie," Sam was smirking, "come on, tell me what happened! Who said it first?"

"None of your damn business," Dean couldn't stop himself from blushing, and Sam noticed the flushing of his cheeks immediately.

"Cas said it first, didn't he?" Sam's grin grew wider.

Dean rolled his eyes, "I'm not telling you about my personal business with Cas."

" _Personal_ business?" Sam quirked an eyebrow, "Am I going to have to find another tree to sleep under tonight?"

"Dammit, Sammy!" Dean threw a handful of leaves and pine needles at Sam, "I'm not telling you anything."

"Fine, fine," Sam held up his hands in defeat, "you don't have to get so defensive."

"I'm not getting defensive," Dean rebutted, standing up, "Cas and I just aren't a big deal, okay?" he said loudly; Sam bit his lip, his smile fading, causing Dean to turn around. He saw Cas standing just a few feet away, "shit."

"You're a big deal to me, Dean," Cas said quietly, looking hurt and a little confused. He was holding several branches of blackberries.

"I'm going to see if I can find some water," Sam whispered to Dean before leaving the camp site.

Dean took a few steps toward Cas, "I didn't mean it like that, Cas."

"How did you mean it?" Cas asked, still not moving.

Dean grabbed the blackberry bush branches from Cas, "I meant that Sam should be concerned with things other than our relationship."

"Is Sam upset?" Cas reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a handful of blueberries. 

"No," Dean put the branches down next to the shelter, before turning back to Cas, "he wanted details."

"What did you tell him?" Cas asked, holding the blueberries out to Dean, who took one and popped it in his mouth.

"I told him it was none of his business," Dean said shrugging, "which it isn't."

"It's probably for the better that we don't publicize our feelings for one another," Cas said, agreeing with Dean, as he piled the blueberries on a flat stone next to where Dean put the blackberries down. When he straightened up he felt Dean hug him from behind.

"I wish we could get out of here right now," Dean mumbled as Cas tilted his head to the side so Dean could press a few playful kisses on his neck. Cas relaxed into Dean's embrace, momentarily letting his eyes shut as Dean hummed softly against his skin.

"Dean," Cas whispered, shivering as Dean's lips trailed down his shoulder, "Sam should be back soon, maybe we should-"

"Sam won't be back for at least an hour," Dean nipped at Cas' earlobe, "our unspoken rule when there's the potential of getting laid."

"Sam thinks we're going to be having sexual intercourse in the woods?" Cas turned around in Dean's arms so he could face him.

"Probably," Dean gave him a coy smile.

"Are we?" Cas cupped Dean's cheek in his hand, looking unsure.

"I think after the day we've had, we deserve a little rest and relaxation," Dean closed his eyes and leaned in to kiss Cas, but just before their lips met he felt another presence and froze.

"Hello, boys," came a cheerful, familiar voice, "am I interrupting something?"

"No," Cas said too-quickly, turning to face Crowley, "what do you want, Crowley?"

"Don't look so bloody happy to see me, Castiel," Crowley glanced from Dean to Cas, "I didn't realize my timing would be so impeccable when I came to the rescue," he mused, grinning smugly, "where's Moose? My sources told me Gadreel was no longer in the picture with him."

"Sources? What sources?" Dean asked, narrowing his eyes, "How did you even find us?"

"You aren't the only one's who want Metatron gone. I have eyes and ears all over," Crowley said wickedly, the smile never leaving his face, "it wasn't hard to find you. Considering Gabriel told me before he went and wasted the rest of his mojo to save your arses from being blown up."

"You said you're here to rescue us," Cas said, giving Crowley a quizzical look.

"More or less," Crowley shrugged, "we've been tracking Gadreel and Metatron. I think we may know where they are."

"They're going to be expecting an attack, you know," Dean folded his arms, "we can't just go in there blind. We need a plan."

"No shit, Squirrel," Crowley snapped his fingers and Sam appeared next to Dean and Cas, looking confused, "there you are, Moose. Nice of you to join us."

"Crowley? How-"

"Now that we're all here, we need to get you to the safe house," Crowley walked over to the trio.

"Where is it?" Dean asked, "Metatron might find us."

"Would you rather stay out here without shoes and coats?" Crowley looked smug. 

"No," Cas said before Dean could comment, "but we need to know what the plan is before we'll agree to go with you."

Crowley was getting annoyed, "alright, let me put it this way: you can either die in the woods or come with me. The plan isn't important right now."

"So you want us to trust you," Sam said, stone-faced.

"Do you really have another option?" Crowley asked bluntly.

"We don't," Dean muttered.

"Brilliant. Off we pop then," Crowley snapped his fingers and everything went dark.

\- - -

Dean blinked a few times as everything came into focus. Cas and Sam were still next to him, but they were in an unfamiliar log cabin. It was snowing outside, but there was a roaring fire burning in the fireplace, which made everything seem cozier than it actually was. Dean didn't realize he'd grabbed Cas' hand until Cas squeezed it, bringing him to the present, "any ideas where we are?" he asked to no one in particular, dropping Cas' hand.

"I don't think we're anywhere near the Equator," Sam said, looking out the window at the snow.

"Alaska," Cas said quietly, "this is one of Gabriel's safe houses."

"How do you know?" Dean walked over to the fireplace and tossed another log on the fire.

"I stayed here with Gabriel for a very short period of time before he died," Cas walked over to the weathered coffee table and picked up an envelope addressed to 'Cassie.' Which he assumed was him.

"What's that?" Sam asked, looking at the envelope.

"It's for me," Cas said, carefully opening it. He pulled out a folded piece of paper and skimmed it over before speaking again, "Gabriel wrote this."

"Well what does it say?" Dean demanded.

"All I'm allowed to say is that Gabriel knew more than he lead us to believe. The best thing we can do is stay put. We're safe here," Cas said cryptically, hearing groans from both Sam and Dean. He folded the letter up and tucked it away in his pocket.

"So basically we have to sit here, in the middle of the fucking tundra, and do nothing," Dean complained, flopping down onto the raggedy sofa.

"At least we don't have to sleep in the woods," Sam offered, trying to sound optimistic as he glanced over to the kitchen, "hey, check this out," he said, walking over the the fridge, "it's another note," he moved the magnet holding the note and skimmed over it.

Dean didn't bother getting up, "anything good?"

Sam chuckled, "I guess Gabriel was expecting us to end up here," he mused, walking back over to Dean, handing him the note.

Dean grabbed the piece of paper, and read it out loud:

" _To my favorite group of idiots:_

_If you're reading this, I'm dead. Again. And if I'm dead, it means I sacrificed myself to save your asses. You're welcome._

_You'll be safe at my house for the time being, so don't be morons and leave before you're supposed to. I have protection sigils and all that bullshit to ward off any dickheads who might be after you. There's two bedrooms and the fridge is stocked. And before you ask yourselves why the house is done up, yes, I did anticipate you ending up here. I made sure everything you could possibly need was here. Again, you're welcome._

_Crowley knows the plan. I know he's a dick bag, but you're going to have to trust me. He owes me one. He won't fuck you over.  
Have fun, kids. Don't trash my flat or I'll come back and haunt you._

_Hugs and Smooches,_

_Gabriel_ "

"Hugs and smooches?" Dean rolled his eyes, getting up, "I don't know about you, Sammy, but I'm going to check out the bedroom situation."

Sam made a sound of acknowledgement as he pawed through the fridge, "I'll make dinner," he said, overwhelmed by the amount of food in the fridge, "he even has good beer in here," he mumbled, helping himself. 

"Come on, Cas. We're going to claim to good room," Dean winked at him, strolling down the hall, Cas joining him. He opened the last door on the left and looked inside, "you have got to be fucking kidding me."

"What is it?" Cas peeked over Dean's shoulder, gaping when he saw what Dean was cursing about.

"That son of a bitch," Dean laughed, walking into the room, closely followed by Cas, who shut the door.

The room was small, but there was a queen sized bed pushed up against the wall. There was a single side table next to the bed, and on the table was a large basket filled with the most ridiculous assortment of sexual supplies that Dean had ever seen. Gabriel had even taken it upon himself to put a gigantic bow on it. Next to the basket was a post-it note reading: _For the happy couple! xoxo Gabriel_ and a framed picture of Gabriel with the smarmiest grin imaginable. 

"Gabriel has a very unique sense of humor," Cas noted, looking at the basket.

Dean was still snickering to himself as he poked through the basket, "handcuffs? Really, Gabe?" Dean sat on the bed and dumped the contents of the basket all over the duvet, "I can't believe this."

Cas stood in the middle of the room, staring wide-eyed at the slew of ropes, handcuffs, bottles and even a few things he'd never seen, "I shouldn't be as shocked as I am," he said sheepishly, "I knew he was going to do something like this."

"How could you have possibly known he was going to leave a sex basket?" Dean asked, reading the label on one of the small bottles, "He's got good taste, I'll admit that."

"I mentioned you to him," Cas looked down at the floor, tracing a knot of wood with his toe.

"He really wanted to get you laid, clearly," Dean put everything back in the basket and put it on the night stand, "we'll have to thank him on the other side." 

Cas finally smiled, "he was always a good big brother to me," he joined Dean on the bed, "I remember him saying that you were a good man and he knew you could make me happy. If we see him again, don't tell him I told you."

"Not a word," Dean stretched and laid on his back, looking up at the ceiling, "I'd never call him out- especially after all those times he fucked with me and Sam. No thanks."

"Probably a good idea on your part," Cas followed Dean's lead and flopped down on his back, "he tends to over do things."

"What, you mean killing me a couple hundred times was over-doing it?" Dean chuckled, "At least he didn't really kill me."

"He wouldn't have," Cas looked at Dean, "he never liked to go against orders, even when he left Heaven."

"Orders not to kill me?" Dean rolled on his side, "When I was Michael's vessel?"

"In general," Cas shifted onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow, "killing you would have been blasphemy."

"What are you talking about?" Dean frowned, "Did I miss something?"

"I haven't been totally honest with you," Cas admitted, not making eye contact with Dean, "I know things that I haven't told you."

"You've been keeping things from me?" Dean felt hurt, but tried not to show it, "I thought we were passed all the lying, Cas."

"I didn't technically lie to you," Cas said quietly, risking a glance at Dean, "You never asked for any of the information I had."

"And you didn't think to bring it up to me?" Dean tried to keep his voice even, "I want the truth, Cas."

"Killing you, The Prophet, would have ultimately resulted in the destruction of the planet," Cas muttered, looking back down at the duvet. He didn't keep this secret to be malicious, he was doing it to protect Dean. If Dean knew he was The Prophet, he would have thought he was indestructible. Cas refused to let Dean get injured or killed for his cockiness. He loved Dean, but he was so pompous sometimes.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean raised an eyebrow, "I'm a Prophet? Is that was Gadreel was talking about in the woods? That's why Metatron wants me."

"Not just a Prophet. _The_ Prophet," Cas swallowed hard, "My Prophet."

"Wait a second," Dean narrowed his eyes quizzically, "what do you mean I'm your Prophet?"

"I'm God, or, I will be. It's why God created me- to take his place. And you were always meant to be my Prophet. My voice," Cas reached out and caressed Dean's stubbly cheek, "only the last angel can change the course of the future. Metatron knows about all of this. I don't know how he knows it, but one thing I do know is that we're not safe outside of this house."

Dean opened his mouth to speak, but closed it, doing this several times before he finally said something, "that's..." he paused for a moment, "that's a lot to just drop on me, Cas."

"Perhaps I shouldn't have been so blatant with the truth," Cas sat up and got off the bed. 

"Where are you going?" Dean shifted so he was laying fully on the bed.

"I assumed you would want to be alone," Cas watched Dean running his finger along the comforter.

"Can I ask you something?" Dean patted the bed for Cas to join him.

"Of course," Cas immediately joined Dean, laying down on his side to face him, "what is it?"

"So," Dean paused, figuring out how to phrase what needed to be said, "if you're God's replacement and I'm your Prophet...what happened to God in the first place?"

"When the angels fell, God also fell from Grace. Without the angels in heaven, there was no need for Him either. All the angels Graces were a part of him. When He came to me in a dream, and I didn't realize it at the time, but it was His spirit. God didn't survive the fall," Cas exhaled slowly closing his eyes, "it wasn't until Gadreel referred to you as The Prophet that everything made sense."

"So, God is dead," Dean was still trying to wrap his mind around everything that was happening, "and now you're God. Again."

"I wasn't really God back then," Cas opening his eyes, "it's impossible to be God without human experience. I failed to take that into account when I...fucked up."

A smile played the corners of Dean's lips, "that's a bad word, God. I don't think you should be talking like that."

"I thought it accurately illustrated the situation," Cas grabbed a pillow and rested his head on it, "besides, I don't think you can tell me what to do if I really am God."

"I think you like it," Dean mused, smirking.

"Of all men to be The Prophet," Cas quipped, "God had to pick the smart ass."

"With the best ass," Dean added, winking suggestively.

Cas couldn't argue that.


	14. Don't Play Catch In The House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life at the cabin is tense. No one knows what to expect. One thing leads to another and eventually Crowley shows up to add in ANOTHER twist.
> 
> Warning: SMUT.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *usual thanks for the support/comments/kudos love love looooooove*
> 
> Also, in case you missed the warning: smutty, smut, smut. (And it's my first time writing smut, so it's probably not great. But after a week of writing it, I finally finished!)

The next week was quiet. Sam kept to himself, mostly reading through the books in the cabin. Dean was drunk for the most part and Cas spent a lot of time alone. The atmosphere was tense at best. None of them knew what to expect next. All they could do is wait until Crowley showed up.

On the eighth day in isolation, Sam had finally decided to give reading a break and take a nap in the basement bedroom, seeing as he hadn't had more than three hours of sleep a night since they got to the cabin. Cas was sitting quietly on the couch, deep in thought with his eyes closed. He barely acknowledged Sam as he left the parlor to go downstairs.

Despite it being before noon, Dean was already down half a bottle of whiskey. He stumbled into the parlor, where Cas was sitting, and flopped down on the couch, resting his head on Cas' lap, bottle of whiskey still in hand, "you okay?" he asked, looking up at him.

To Dean's great annoyance, Cas only nodded and kept his eyes shut. Cas hadn't said much since he told Dean about God. Every time Dean tried to lighten the mood, Cas seemed to distance himself and it was starting to worry him. He almost regretted asking for the truth in the first place. It wasn't worth losing Cas. He couldn't take another night of sleeping on the couch, even if it was his own decision to sleep there, "Cas?"

"Hm?" Cas still didn't open his eyes.

"You know that I still, uh," Dean's head was swimming with the whiskey; his speech wasn't totally slurred, but it was obvious that he'd been drinking. He stopped talking and sighed. Drunkenly saying 'I love you' never fixed anything, "never mind," he mumbled, sitting up so he could move to the other side of the couch. Lacking of anything meaningful to say, he turned the TV on. 

After flipping through the five channels about ten times, Dean settled on a soap opera. He wasn't sure what was going on, but given the choice between that and sitting in an awkward silence next to Cas, he'd choose the shitty day time television. Ever so often he'd glance at Cas, but Cas hadn't moved. 

"You know," Dean said during a commercial break, swirling the brown liquor around the bottle, "I miss you, Cas," he debated taking a sip, but put the bottle down instead. 

"I'm right here," Cas said quietly, finally opening his eyes and turning to look at Dean. He was expressionless.

"Physically, yeah," Dean turned the TV off, "but this is the most we've talked all week. Are you going to tell me what's up?"

"You've been drinking," Cas furrowed his brow, "I took that as a signal to let you deal with things your way. I was very blatant with my choice of words last week, and I apologize for telling you everything in the manner I did. I assumed you were upset with me because you've been sleeping on the couch."

"I thought you were pissed off at _me_ ," Dean shrugged, "you were avoiding me. What did you want me to think?"

"I was giving you space to figure everything out," Cas frowned, "it wasn't my intention to push you away."

Dean scooted closer to Cas, "I thought we were a team. There's no way I could handle all of this without you," he reached over and touched Cas' hand, slowly lacing their fingers together, "I need you."

"Forgive me," Cas gently tugged Dean to move closer, "you should have told me I was being inconsiderate."

"I might be overreacting," Dean admitted, "I was afraid I was losing you and I go kind of nuts when I lose people."

"You won't lose me," Cas rested his head on Dean's shoulder, "it's impossible for us to exist as two separate entities at this point. No you without me."

"I'm sure we'd survive if we split. That sounds kind of dramatic," Dean put his arm around Cas, who relaxed a bit as Dean started playing with his hair.

"We're soul mates, Dean," Cas picked a piece of lint off of Dean's black, fitted t-shirt, "on a molecular level...two parts of a whole."

"Soul mates," Dean repeated to himself, smiling, "you think so?"

"God told me," Cas sighed happily, "we were created for one another."

"Really?" Dean carded his fingers through Cas' hair, "I didn't know soul mates existed."

"Only in special cases," Cas murmured, playing with Dean's amulet, "for the most part humans just assume loving another person means they're soul mates. But only God can create soul mates."

"So, we're really soul mates?" Dean shifted so he could comfortably put his feet on the coffee table.

"I wouldn't lie about something like this," Cas sat up straight again, so he could look at Dean.

"I never said you would," Dean half-smiled, "it's just hard to accept that something good could happen to me. I don't feel like I deserve to be so happy," he chuckled, "but, it's a nice change. In a way it kind of gives me hope that maybe we'll win this war against Metatron."

"You deserve happiness just as much as anyone," Cas leaned in and kissed Dean's cheek, letting his lips linger against the scratchy stubble, "I like seeing you happy."

"Are you happy?" Dean asked, closing his eyes as Cas pressed another kiss on his jaw.

"I feel a lot of things when I'm with you," Cas trailed his lips along Dean's jaw bone, "happiness, lust, frustration, fear-"

"Frustration I can understand. I'm a pain in the ass. But, fear?" Dean tilted Cas' chin up so he could look at him, "What are you afraid of, Cas?"

"The same thing you're afraid of," Cas said, not breaking eye contact, "losing the person who makes me feel whole." 

"Stop worrying about me," Dean gave Cas a quick peck on the lips, "I'm not easy to get rid of."

"But you _are_ human," Cas whispered, "Metatron could easily-"

Dean kissed Cas again to shut him up, "I said stop worrying," he said in a final tone.

" _Make me_ ," Cas said petulantly, raising an eyebrow. There was a mischievous sparkle in his cerulean eyes.

Dean's eyebrows shot up. The tendency for Cas to be unintentionally sexy never ceased to catch him off guard, "bedroom, now," he said in a husky voice, standing up. He grabbed Cas' wrists and pulled him up.

"What?" Cas was wide-eyed, confused for a moment before it clicked, " _Oh_ ," breathed as Dean pulled him down the hall. They barely made it halfway to the bedroom before Cas pinned Dean against the wall to crush their lips together, a throaty moan escaping him when Dean grabbed his ass.

Cas pressed himself up against Dean, kissing him deeply, with no objections to Dean working his tongue into the mix. It took them another few minutes to finally make their way into the bedroom; when the door to the bedroom was finally shut, Dean nearly tackled Cas onto the bed, "where did you learn to kiss like that?" Dean growled, straddling Cas and nipping at his earlobe.

"You," Cas murmured, tugging at Dean's shirt, "take it off."

Dean didn't need to be asked twice. His shirt was discarded on the floor, and between kisses, Cas' was eventually thrown across the room. The skin on skin contact sent a jolt of pleasure straight to Dean's groin, and he rolled his hips against Cas as their lips met again. He didn't know where this was going, but he didn't really care. 

Cas groaned at the friction, desperately clinging to Dean, "please," he whined as Dean trailed his lips down Cas' neck, to his chest, gingerly pressing a languid kiss over his heart.

"Tell me," Dean whispered, running his hand up Cas' torso, "what do you want?" He brushed his fingers over Cas' nipple and smirked against his soft skin when Cas hitched his breath from the touch. 

Cas tilted Dean's chin up, so he could look at him. His pupils were blown wide, making Dean shiver, "Only you," he said in a gravelly voice, "I want this," he shifted and sat up with Dean still straddling him as he cupped the back of Dean's neck, bringing him closer so he could kiss him properly.

Dean hummed into the tangle of lips and playful biting, closing his eyes as Cas opened his mouth, deepening the kiss. They were both hard. There was no denying it. Dean grinded against Cas, groaning when Cas moved his hands to his waist, gripping his sides tight to pull him even closer. Dean was positive there would be bruises on his hips tomorrow. But he was so okay with it.

In the midst of groping and frantic kissing, Dean's belt was yanked off, and his pants were unbuttoned. Cas moved them both so they were fully on the mattress, in one quick movement he flipped Dean on his back and leaned down to kiss the tip of his nose, "you're amazing," he mumbled, suddenly looking insecure as he sat up, straddling Dean.

"What's wrong?" Dean propped himself up on his elbows.

Cas shook his head, visibly embarrassed, "I don't want to ruin the moment."

"If you don't want to-"

"It's not that," Cas ran his thumb along Dean's kiss-swollen lips, glancing over at the untouched 'sex basket', "I don't know what to...do," he sighed, disappointed in himself for being unsure. 

Dean smirked, "you're pretty controlling in bed for someone who doesn't know what to do," he said, adding in a wink at the end for good measure, as he played with one of the pull-strings on Cas' sweatpants, "usually the pants come off before you worry about what to do."

Cas' eyes widened a little, a shy smile sneaking out, "can I..." Cas cautiously ran his finger along Dean's zipper.

"Alright, let me put it this way," Dean grabbed Cas' hand and helped him unzip his jeans, "okay?" he asked as Cas sat up on his knees, nodding and watching Dean shimmy out of his jeans and kick them off to the bottom of the bed, leaving him in his boxer briefs. 

Dean slid out from under Cas and nodded for him to lay down. His lips were immediately on Cas' chest, ghosting kisses down his torso, but stopping at the hem of the sweatpants. He ran his thumbs along Cas' hip bones before slowly pulling them down; Cas lifted his hips and let Dean tug the pants off. They were tossed onto the wood floor next to Dean's belt, "do you ever wear underwear?" he mused.

"Am I supposed to?" Cas looked horrified for a moment.

Dean couldn't stop himself from laughing, but quickly pressed himself up against Cas to kiss him, "I think it's sexy that you go commando," he murmured against Cas' lips, rolling his still-clothed hips against Cas.

Cas closed his eyes, his mouth opening to speak, but no words came out. Dean took the speechlessness as encouragement, licking and sucking his way down Cas' torso again, " _Dean_ ," Cas breathed as Dean's tongue found it's way to the base of his cock.

"What's that?" Dean asked, his voice seductively low as he licked a painfully slow stripe up Cas' length.

Cas groaned, his hips bucking, "mouth, Dean," he managed to babble, along with a slew of profanities, as Dean swirled his tongue around the tip of his cock.

Dean laughed airily, watching Cas wriggle under him, "you're beautiful," he said, wrapping his hand around Cas, licking his lips before taking him in his mouth. Cas covered his own mouth, moaning into his hand as Dean slowly took in Cas' entire length, letting his teeth gently brush against the sensitive skin. 

Cas' free hand seemed to come out of nowhere, gripping the back of Dean's neck, thrusting into Dean's mouth. Dean let Cas guide the motions, trying to maintain his gag reflex as Cas fucked his throat, his breathing ragged. After a few thrusts, Cas pulled out of Dean's mouth, "I'm going to..." his cheeks were red and sweat was beading on his forehead; Dean could hardly see the color of Cas' eyes behind the dilated pupils.

"Not yet," Dean wiped his mouth, narrowing his eyes, "don't you dare," he pulled his boxer briefs off and threw them to the side, sitting up on his knees, feeling almost insecure as Cas' eyes trailed down his naked body.

It was the first time Cas had seen Dean nude. He was in awe of him. Beauty was never something he considered with Dean because of the chemical attraction between them, but physical attraction was definitely there. He looked up at Dean expectantly, unsure of what to do next. His heart was racing as Dean grabbed a small bottle out of the 'sex basket.' 

"Okay?" Dean asked, flipping the cap of the bottle open.

Cas didn't know the mechanics of two men being together in a sexual relationship, but he knew what it entailed. He nodded, looking uncertain, almost frightened, "okay," he whispered, watching Dean squirt the clear, jelly stuff on his fingers.

Dean looked down at Cas, "if it's too much to handle you need to tell me," he said coating his fingers, "I'm not forcing anything on you, Cas," he tried to hide that he was just as terrified as Cas looked. Sure, he'd fingered himself plenty of times, but he wasn't the poster child of sodomy by any means. He had no idea what he was doing. 

"I'm not that fragile," Cas said, shivering as Dean spread his legs and kissed the inside of his thigh. 

"You need to promise you'll tell me to stop if you need me to stop," Dean said, his tone serious.

"I promise," Cas said finally.

"Good," Dean's grin returned, "you ever, uh," he held up his slick fingers, "you ever use your fingers?"

Cas shook his head, "have you?"

"Maybe," Dean leaned in so he could flick his tongue against Cas' balls, "I'll start with one," he murmured, teasing Cas' hole with his index finger. 

Cas inhaled sharply, as Dean carefully slid one finger inside of him. He tossed his head back against the pillow, his muscles clenching around Dean's finger. Slowly Dean pulled his finger out, "I want to hear you," he growled, pushing in again, crooking his finger against Cas' prostate.

The sensation was almost overwhelming, Cas almost screamed, but still tried to keep a hold on his self control as Dean repeated the motion. After the third time, Cas was panting and babbling, "Dean, fuck, you're so, fuck," he let out a long whine as Dean pulled his finger out.

"I'm so fuck?" Dean grabbed the bottle again, squirting more lube onto his fingers, "Two?"

"Two," Cas bit his lip, closing his eyes again as he felt Dean inside him again, this time with two fingers. 

Dean moved his fingers in a steady motion, slowly scissoring them inside of Cas, "talk to me," he hit Cas' prostate again, "come on, baby."

Cas' knuckles were white as he gripped the duvet, "yes, Dean, oh fuck," he moaned as Dean unexpectedly added a third finger, picking up the speed, "dammit shit fuck, please, Dean," he begged.

Dean could feel Cas loosening up, as he crooked his fingers one more time, "are you sure?" Dean asked, nearly coming just as Cas' reactions to everything. He sat back on his knees.

"Dean," Cas sat up and locked eyes with him, the intensity caught Dean off guard and he removed his fingers, unable to look away, "please," he grabbed the bottle and squirted the lube on his hand, sitting up, glancing down at Dean's cock, as if to ask for permission.

Dean swallowed hard, gasping as Cas wrapped his hand around his cock, "Jesus, Cas," he groaned as Cas stroked him lightly, slicking him up.

"I want you, now," Cas growled, removing his hand so he could pull Dean into a kiss, forcing Dean's mouth open with his tongue. Claiming him as his own.

Dean shuddered at the sudden possessiveness, letting Cas yank him down on top him, "I love you," he said gruffly, biting Cas' lower lip before shifting so he could pin Cas' legs up to get some leverage, "I'll go slow," he breathed as he stroked his cock a few times before lining himself up with Cas' hole, "okay?"

"Okay," Cas mouthed, his heart racing with anticipation. 

Dean cursed under his breath as he carefully entered Cas, "oh god, fuck," he groaned when he was in as far as he could go. Cas' muscles contracted around him, almost sending him over the edge as he started moving in slow, fluid thrusts, "you're so fucking perfect," Dean mumbled, pushing into Cas again.

Cas grunted with each thrust, not sure if this was pain or pleasure or a mixture of both. He'd never experienced anything remotely close to what he was currently feeling. The closeness he felt with Dean with indescribable, "kiss me," he demanded, breathlessly, pulling Dean against him. The movement made Dean hit his prostate just right and he couldn't stop the full body orgasm from winning, "oh, oh, god, Dean, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he moaned, feeling the liquid warmth spill onto his stomach.

"It's fine, it's okay," Dean panted, kissing Cas, thrusting into him a few more times to get himself off, "fuck," he groaned, slowly pulling out so he could flop down on the bed next to Cas, "god damn," he breathed, looking at Cas through lidded eyes.

"Mhm," Cas agreed, curling up against Dean's chest.

Dean closed his eyes, lazily carding his fingers through Cas' hair, enjoying the post-orgasmic numbness coursing through his body. He laid there for a minute before reaching for the throw blanket, "here, clean up," he said after wiping his stomach off.

Cas sat up just long enough to clean himself up and to throw the blanket off the bed before cuddling up next to Dean again, "I love you too," he mumbled, pressing a chaste kiss against Dean's throat, "did you call me baby before?"

"Probably," Dean chuckled, hugging Cas, "I usually only call my car baby, but, you're an exception."

"Do you love me more than your car?" Cas nuzzled into the crook of Dean's neck.

"You ask the dumbest questions," Dean pulled the duvet over them, "of course I do."

Cas smiled against Dean's skin, "what if Sam heard us?"

Dean had nearly forgotten about Sam, "I fucking hope he didn't, I'm not ready for those questions," he said, laughing until there was a soft knock on the door, "son of a bitch," he whispered before sitting up, "What?" he yelled, "No! Don't open the door!" his voice cracked as he saw the handle start turning.

The handle stopped, "uh, Dean, Cas...Crowley's out here," Sam said, clearing his throat several times as he spoke.

"Son of a bitch," Dean said again, louder, "really? That fucking-"

"I wasn't the one fucking, boys," Came Crowley's smarmy voice from the other side of the door.

"I guess Sam wasn't the only one who heard," Cas said sheepishly.

"You think?" Dean couldn't help but laugh as he climbed over Cas to grab their clothes that were now strewn across the room, "Give us a minute," he called, tossing Cas' shirt and pants at him before gathering his own clothes. When they were dressed Dean pulled Cas in for a quick kiss before winking and walking toward the door, "ready?"

"No," Cas admitted, reaching for Dean's hand, "you?"

"Fuck no. But we're in this together, right?" Dean asked, opening the door with his free hand.

"Of course," Cas squeezed Dean's hand before letting it go, following him out of the room, to the parlor.

Sam was leaning against the fireplace mantle and Crowley had made himself comfortable on the couch, smirking at Cas and Dean as they came into the parlor, "hello boys," he cooed, a knowing eyebrow raised, "seems like you're having a nice holiday."  
Sam coughed uncomfortably, looking down at the floor, "Crowley says he found where Metatron is," he risked a glance at Dean, but immediately looked away, "they managed to catch Gadreel."

Crowley had the biggest shit-eating grin that Dean had ever seen, "and speaking of catching things-"

"Don't you fucking dare," Dean said dangerously, pushing Cas into the parlor, so they could take a seat on the loveseat.

Crowley laughed wickedly, "I took you as more of a pitcher, Dean," he said, ignoring Dean.

"Shut up, Crowley," Cas said, wincing as he sat down.

Crowley didn't miss a beat, "You alright there, old friend?" Crowley folded his hands in his lap, "Weren't you ever told not to play catch in the house?" 

Dean had had enough, "okay, yeah, I get it," he hissed, "you heard us fucking. Get over it and just tell us why the fuck you're here so we can get out of this fucking cabin."

"So much for post-coital bliss," Crowley shrugged, "I just thought you'd be interested to know that Gadreel has kindly told me everything I needed to know."

"How do you know he was telling the truth?" Dean glanced from Sam, who still looked uncomfortable, to Crowley, who still looked smug.

"You of all people should know," Crowley narrowed his eyes maliciously, "I have my ways."

"Point taken," Dean said, tensing up, but relaxed when he felt Cas lace his fingers with his own, "so what did he say?"

Crowley got up, "well, apparently Metatron has barricaded himself up in heaven. No one gets in, no one gets out. Naturally, we have to get in," he picked picked up one of the knickknacks off the bookshelf, a snow globe, and shook it, "but it isn't going to be easy."

"When is anything ever easy?" Dean rolled his eyes, "What's the plan?"

Crowley's smile returned, "I think Castiel knows."

When Dean looked over at Cas, the angel's expression was blank, "Cas?"

"Heaven isn't a kingdom for the living," Cas whispered, "I didn't anticipate Metatron taking refuge in heaven."

"Wait a second, Cas," Sam chimed in, "are you saying we have to..." he couldn't bring himself to finish.

Cas nodded slowly, "your souls have to leave your body in order to get into heaven."

Dean stared at Cas, "we've done that. We'll just get some African dream root and-"

"No, Dean," Cas finally looked at him, "it's not the same."

"Right," Dean nodded, "I'll go."

Sam shot a glance at Dean, "Dean, you can't-"

"Sammy, I need you down here when I get back," Dean interrupted, speaking in a final tone.

"Isn't brotherly love sweet?" Crowley mused, "Your Squirrel is right, Moose. If he fails miserably up there, we'll need a back up plan."

Sam looked bewildered, "so, what? We're just going to murder Dean and hope he gets rid of Metatron?" he asked, looking disgusted.

"Basically," Crowley shrugged, "problem?"

"Problem? Yeah, I have a problem!" Sam yelled, rounding on Crowley, "Why the hell didn't you tell us this was a possibility?"

"Someone control the Moose," Crowley held up his hands in defense, "this isn't my fault. Metatron is the enemy here."

Sam sighed irritably, "is there any other option?"

"Sam, sit down," Dean bumped a kiss on Cas temple before standing up, "do you think Cas would even mention it if that wasn't the only option?"

Sam pursed his lips, still glaring at Crowley. 

"Sam, look at me," Dean said quietly, speaking when he had Sam's full attention, "we promised each other we'd stop this whole preventing death thing with each other."

"Are you kidding me?" Sam snapped, "You had an angel possess me because I was going to die! I was ready to die. You didn't let me. Now I'm not going to let you sacrifice yourself. Cas," he looked at Cas, "is there any other option?"

Cas didn't say anything, he just looked solemnly at Sam.

"Cas?" Sam asked desperately, "Tell me there's another option."

"Believe me, Sam. I wish I could say yes," Cas said reluctantly, his eyes flickering toward Dean, then back to Sam, "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" Sam threw his arms up in frustration and left the room, "This is bullshit!" he yelled, stomping down the hall, slamming the bathroom door shut.

"So," Dean said after a long, awkward silence, "will I get into heaven if I do it myself?"

Cas stood up and grabbed Dean's hand, "there's still time to try and figure something else out."

"You said it yourself that there's no other option," Dean said stubbornly.

Crowley cleared his throat, "I could buy you some time. See if I can't get more information out of Gadreel," he said, looking surprisingly touched by the entire situation.

Dean gave him a suspicious look, "I thought you said he told you everything."

"Angels are tricky. There's always more information," Crowley folded his arms, "so what do you say, boys?"

"Twenty-four hours," Cas said, squeezing Dean's hand gently, "if we don't find any other option, we'll go along with the plan."

"Twenty-four hours," Dean agreed, feeling a pang of nervousness in his gut, "deal?"

Crowley shrugged, "I could give you forty-eight," he said, raising an eyebrow, "just in case you wanted to," he made an obscene, sexual gesture with his hands.

"God dammit, Crowley!" Dean flipped him off.

"Alright, alright," Crowley held up his hands in defeat, "I'll be back in twenty-four hours. Good luck, boys," he winked before disappearing out of sight.

Dean exhaled slowly, closing his eyes. He knew his fate was inevitable at this point, "what do we do, Cas?"

Cas was silent for a long time, trying to think of a good answer. But he had nothing. He knew there was no other option. If Metatron was barricaded in heaven, they couldn't summon him. And if they wanted to get to Metatron, no human could be in physical form up in heaven. Finally he spoke softly, his voice pained, "Dean, I really don't know."


	15. Bad Company's Self Titled Album Kicks Ass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With twenty-four hours to come up with a plan, all hope seems lost. But they've done more with less time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took forever to post, I apologize. Internet's been out due to the snow.
> 
> Also, this chapter has drug use (marijuana) and drinking. The scene with drug use is meant to be humorous, but blah blah blah drugs are bad or something. I don't know. It might be a trigger so I'm mentioning it.
> 
> Enjoy! And feel free to continue sharing, leaving kudos/comments and hitting me up on Tumblr! (Cockney-Bitch) You guys rock!!

"So," Sam took a long drag off his beer, savoring the taste before speaking again,"we don't have a plan," it wasn't a question. He looked from Dean to Cas, still hopeful, but knowing the ultimate outcome of the situation might not be to anyone's liking.

"The plan is to find a plan," Dean said, shrugging, "we have twenty-four hours until Crowley comes back."

Sam nodded, his mind wandering to the time Dean was dragged to Hell, "that's not enough time," he said quietly, swirling the last of his beer in the bottle before downing it in one go.

"We've done more with less time," Dean offered, glancing at Cas, "so, what do we know right now?"

"Metatron has taken refuge in Heaven because he knows you and Sam can't go up there while you're still living," Cas said quietly, unable to look at either of them, "the only way into Heaven is death. Unless you're an Angel. Which neither of you are."

"And there's no way we can summon Metatron?" Sam asked, placing his bottle on the coffee table, "There has to be something we haven't thought of."

"Yeah, it's worth a shot, Cas. We can try summoning him," Dean smiled, but his eyes were sad, "get him to come to us."

"I've thought of that already," Cas sighed, "if he's barricaded himself in Heaven, a summoning spell won't work."

"How do you know?" Sam got up off the couch, "Isn't it worth trying? We have to try something."

"We can try," Cas finally looked at Sam, expressionless, "but I can't promise that anything will happen."

"So you're saying that it'll be a waste of time," Dean said quietly, "the only thing we can do is kill me and hope that I can gank Metatron. And if that fails miserably, Sam's the back-up."

"What if we both go together?" Sam asked, pacing the room, "If we go together we have a better chance-"

"No," Dean got up, "That's pointless. If we go together and both get killed in the process, what then?"

"Dean's right," Cas whispered, looking down at his knees, "it's too risky for both of you to go together."

Sam stopped pacing, "What about the souls in Heaven?"

"What about them?" Cas looked up.

"We know people in Heaven," Sam's eyes lit up, "Bobby, Jo, Ellen...loads of people. Hunters. Can't we rally them into helping us?"

Cas furrowed his brow deep in thought, "an army of souls against Metatron," he mused, "that might be insane enough to work."

"Great, what do we do?" Dean asked eagerly, standing up.

"You're going to stay here," Cas said, slowly getting up off the sofa, wincing from the reminder of his afternoon with Dean, "I'm going to go to Heaven to find your friends. I won't be long."

"Wait a second," Dean grabbed Cas' arm, "you can zap out of here?"

"Yes," Cas cocked his head to the side, "Why?"

"I thought you didn't have the mojo," Dean frowned, still holding onto Cas' arm, "you never stick around this long."

"I told you I wasn't going to leave you," Cas smiled shyly.

"Can we not have a Lifetime moment right now?" Sam asked impatiently, "You guys can make out or whatever when this is over."

Dean grinned at Cas, giving him a quick peck on the cheek, "be careful," he mumbled before letting go of Cas' arm, "keep an eye on the time."

"I won't be long," Cas assured them both before disappearing. 

\---

After an hour, Sam was getting antsy. He hadn't stopped pacing the room since Cas left. Dean was on his third beer, trying not to look as freaked out as Sam, "Sammy, can you sit down? Pacing around like a maniac isn't going to make Cas come back any faster." 

"Am I the only one taking this whole thing seriously?" Sam asked, looking frantic, "Dean, we might die."

"Yeah?" Dean took a sip of his beer, "That's the story of our lives. We might die every day, but what can we do? We just gotta keep livin'. L-i-v-i-n."

"You're quoting Dazed and Confused?" Sam raised an eyebrow, unable to stop himself from smiling.

"Hell yeah I'm quoting Dazed and Confused," Dean stretched and propped his feet up on the coffee table, "have you heard the soundtrack? It kicks ass."

Sam shook his head, chuckling, "you're ridiculous."

"You're too serious," Dean said, smirking, "this place feels like a funeral home. I wonder if Gabe has any music," he dropped his feet off the table and got up, "you see any tapes around here?"

"Actually, I think I saw a record player in the basement," Sam remembered, turning to leave the room, "he actually has a pretty sweet set up downstairs."

"Count me in," Dean followed Sam down to the basement, "shit, Cas and I should have claimed this room," he said, impressed.

"I'd like to see you two fit on a twin sized bed," Sam laughed, walking over to a closet. He moved around a few boxes and pulled out a small, table-top record player, "I knew I saw one," he said triumphantly, putting it down on a weathered card table, "I don't know if there's any records."

Dean admired the record player as Sam pawed through several boxes in the closet, "if we survive this, I'm calling dibs on the record player," he said, blowing the layer of dust off it.

Sam took the top off a particularly large box, "here we go," he said, taking the box over to the table, "I wonder what kind of music Gabriel listened to," he pondered out loud, fingering through the records, "Barry White?" he laughed, pulling put one of the records.

"What a pimp," Dean laughed, shooing Sam from the records so he could look through them, "Yes! Here we go," Dean pulled out a black record case, "Bad Company's self-titled album."

"Bad Company?" Sam rolled his eyes.

"Fantastic album," Dean handed the record player plug to Sam, "let's plug this bitch in," he said, carefully pulling the record out of it's case to place it on the turntable.

Sam put the plug in the outlet, "I feel like we should have a bag of weed or something. It's like That 70s Show down here," he said grinning.

Dean turned the record player on and beamed as the LP started playing, "I have to say, Gabe has good taste in albums," he strolled over to the beaten-up leather sofa and flopped down, "since when do you smoke pot, Sam?"

"Like you've never done it," Sam joined Dean on the couch, "I mean, if I were to pick a time to smoke, now would be the time."

"I don't think Gabe was the pot-smoking, hippie type," Dean leaned forward and grabbed a wooden box off the table, "and up until now, I didn't think you were either."

"Shut up," Sam punched him playfully, "I was just saying."

"Imagine Cas zapping back and seeing us passing a joint around," Dean snorted.

"Imagine Cas high," Sam added, laughing to himself.

"I've seen it in the future," Dean chuckled, "pot smoking and orgies."

"Cas the hippie love guru," Sam mused, watched Dean open the wooden box, "what's in there?"

Dean pulled out a small, green glass pipe, "apparently Gabe _was_ the pot-smoking hippie type."

"I guess I'm not all that surprised," Sam took the pipe from Dean, "is there anything else in there?" he asked.

Dean pulled out a glass jar, filled with what he assumed was a ridiculous amount of marijuana, "almost tempting," he said, opening the jar, "jeez, it smells like a fucking skunk."

Sam sniffed the air, "that reeks," Sam grabbed the jar, "I don't think Cas will be back for a little bit..."

"Are you really suggesting we smoke Gabe's stash?" Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Come on, Dean. Let's go out with a bang," Sam waggled his eyebrows.

"You freaking pot head," Dean shook his head, laughing.

Sam pulled a nugget out of the jar, "you said I need to relax."

"Fuck it," Dean shrugged, "it might be our last day on Earth. I guess I don't have to worry about going all Snoop Dogg on you in the future," he grabbed one of the lighters out of the box before putting it back on the table.

Sam laughed as he broke a few pieces off the nugget and packed them into the pipe, "smoking weed, eating things. The family business," he took the lighter from Dean and hit the pipe, coughing out a large cloud of smoke, "shit," he choked, handing the pipe to Dean.

"Easy, killer," Dean took the pipe and examined it, before taking a small hit while it was still lit. Immediately he started coughing, "oh, fuck," he sputtered.

They passed the pipe back and forth a few times, filling the basement with a potent cloud. Bad Company played in the background as they chatted and laughed and nearly forgot about everything that was happening. 

"Man," Dean said finally, feeling like he was melting into the couch, "we should have thought of this sooner."

Sam stared at the wall with lidded eyes, "do you think the plan is going to work?" he asked, a smile playing the corners of his mouth.

"Who fucking knows," Dean laughed airily, "I wonder where Cas is."

"He's in Heaven," Sam noted, causing both of them to start laughing.

"You think?" Dean asked, wiping tears from his eyes, still chuckling.

"What are you two doing?" Cas' voice startled both of them, making them turn around, and start laughing again.

"Cas!" Dean beamed, "Hey, buddy!" he got up off the couch and lunged at Cas, hugging him.

"Hello, Dean," Cas still looked confused as he hugged Dean, "it smells like a skunk in here."

"We were relaxing," Sam held up the pipe, "want some?"

"Gabriel would be upset that you found that," Cas said quietly, wriggling out of Dean's vice-grip hug.

"We were smoking in his memory. Hell, we might die. Fuck it all," Dean shrugged, a grin still apparent on his face, "so, what happened up in cloud city?"

"I found your friends," Cas said, trying to ignore the spacey feeling that was taking over his head, "Right now they're trying to coax Metatron out of his hiding place."

"You might say they're giving him Hell," Sam grinned at Dean, who ran over to give him a high-five. Even Cas cracked a smile at that.

"So, if they coax him out, how will we know?" Dean asked, leaning against the back of the sofa.

"We try to summon him," Cas said simply, "if it works, they succeeded. If it doesn't..."

"Then I have to die," Dean finished the sentence for Cas, "alright. Lets summon us a bag of dicks then."

"What do we need?" Sam asked, getting off the couch.

"The usual. Gabriel should have everything we need, but we need to give your friends in Heaven time to deal with Metatron," Cas walked over to the stairs, "and we need Crowley."

"Why do we need Crowley?" Dean and Sam asked at the same time, making them both laugh, yet again.

"Crowley can get information from Metatron," Cas said, giving the brother's a disapproving look because of their laughter, "and we need to set up a trap for Metatron."

"The Holy Oil was in my car," Dean said, remembering the bunker incident, "I'm assuming my baby didn't survive the bunker explosion."

"Your car is fine," Cas said, disappearing for a moment. He appeared again holding the familiar jug, "there should be enough left to contain Metatron."

"Baby's okay? Where is she?" Dean demanded, grabbing the jug from Cas.

"You don't need to worry about that right now," Cas said coolly, "you should be more concerned about Metatron right now."

"Metatron can wait," Dean said, putting the jug down on the card table, shooting a glare at Cas, "Impala first."

"You're so stubborn," Cas narrowed his eyes at Dean, "Garth is taking care of it while you're dealing with the current situation. Crowley drove it there while Gabriel dealt with Gadreel at the bunker."

"That son of a bitch drove my car?" Dean clenched his fists.

"That son of a bitch saved your car and all of it's contents," Cas corrected him, "can we focus on Metatron now?"

"Yes, please," Sam chimed in, "when are we summoning him?"

"When Crowley gets here in about twelve hours," Cas started up the stairs, "I'd suggest resting up until then," he added before leaving the basement.

"Cas is right," Sam walked back over to the couch and flopped down on it, "I think I'm going to try getting some sleep. You should too, Dean."

Dean turned off the record player, "I'll sleep when I figure out what's up with Cas," he mumbled, "he's being a dick."

"Lover's quarrel?" Sam asked, smirking at Dean.

"Bitch," Dean made an obscene hand gesture toward Sam.

"Jerk," Sam responded automatically, chuckling as Dean stomped up the stairs. 

Dean went straight to the bedroom he'd claimed with Cas and opened the door. Cas, who was sitting on the bed, looked up as Dean shut the door and held out his hand for Dean to join him. 

"What happened, Cas?" Dean asked, grabbing Cas' hand. He didn't sit.

"The plan might not work," Cas said softly, lacing his fingers with Dean's, "if the plan doesn't work, and you have to," he paused for a moment, locking eyes with Dean, "Dean, if you have to die, I won't be able to bring you back."

Dean squeezed Cas' hand, "don't think about that yet. We haven't failed yet."

"It's something we both need to think about," Cas sighed, looking pained, "I'm sorry I didn't foresee Metatron taking refuge in Heaven. I should have known."

"How could you have known he'd pull that?" Dean finally sat down, still grasping Cas' hand, "Don't blame yourself. I mean, fuck, if I die, we both knew it was coming eventually."

Cas buried his face in the crook of Dean's neck, letting go of his hand so he could wrap his arms around Dean. He relaxed a little when Dean draped his arm around him. Neither of them spoke for a long time. The closeness said more than any words could. When Cas finally spoke, his voice was hoarse with emotion, "I'm not ready to lose you, Dean."

Dean felt a lump rising in his throat, "Cas," was all he could say. He could feel wetness on his neck and knew Cas was crying. He'd seen Cas look like he was going to cry plenty of times, but this was the first time Cas had actually cried in front of him, "it's okay, Cas," he mumbled, rubbing circles on Cas' back with his thumb.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Cas loosened his grip and looked at Dean again, his eyelashes wet with tears, "I'm not usually like this."

Dean wiped a stray tear off Cas' cheek, "I've never seen you cry," he said, kissing the tip of his nose, "you're beautiful," he added in a whisper.

Finally, Cas smiled, "I've never cried like this before," he said sheepishly, "even when I was human. It's strange. What have you done to me, Dean Winchester?"

Dean narrowed his eyes mischievously, "oh, you know what I did to you. Everyone knows, apparently."

"Good," Cas rebutted, raising an eyebrow seductively, "I want them to know that you're mine."

"I think it's the other way around," Dean grinned, "after all, you were kind of my bitch."

"Is that a challenge?" Cas leaned in, brushing his lips against Dean's, "This might be your last night on Earth."

"I guess I should get a good night of sleep then," Dean whispered, nipping at Cas' lower lip before scooting onto the mattress so he could lay down on his side, his back facing Cas.

"Since when do you listen to my advice?" Cas laid on his side, pressing up against Dean's back. He draped his arm around Dean, letting his hand wander under Dean's shirt.

Dean shivered as Cas' hand lazily brushed across one of his nipples, "I don't think you're following your own advice," he mused, grinding his ass against Cas.

Cas chuckled, pressing a few kisses up Dean's neck, "That's true," he bit Dean's earlobe playfully, "I can't let you waste the time we have left," he added in a husky tone, latching his leg around Dean's waist.

"Sleep is never a waste of time," Dean mumbled, closing his eyes as Cas traced his lips along his neck.

"Sleep is more important than me?" Cas untangled himself from Dean and sat up.

Dean rolled on his back so he could look at Cas, "you know I didn't mean it like that," he rolled his eyes, "I just refuse to believe in a no-win scenario."

"This may be a no-win scenario, Dean," Cas frowned, "you're being far too casual about the possibility of death."

"It'll work out. It always does," Dean sat up and wormed his way onto Cas' lap, "besides, if you're actually God, you can do whatever you want. You could even bring me back," he straddled Cas, kissing the tip of his nose.

"Not if Metatron destroys your soul. And he will if he kills you," Cas shifted into a more comfortable position, draping his arms around Dean's waist, "If your soul is destroyed, not even God could bring you back."

Dean furrowed his eyebrows, "I didn't think of that," he said quietly, looking down.

Cas pulled Dean closer, "I promise to do everything I can to prevent you from dying, Dean," he brushed his lips against Dean's forehead, "I wish there were options with a more positive outcome," he added in a whisper.

"Can we forget this for now, please?" Dean asked gruffly, finally looking at Cas, "You're right. I shouldn't be wasting these last hours."

Cas half-smiled, "how are you going to spend them?"

A coy grin flashed across Dean's face, "preferably with you on top of me."

Cas' eyes grew wide, "what?"

"You said you wanted everyone to know that I'm yours," Dean shrugged, climbing off of Cas' lap, "and the last time I checked, sex wasn't a waste of time," he winked and got off the bed.

"Where are you going?" Cas asked narrowing his eyes at Dean.

Dean turned back to Cas, "I'm going to lock the door."

Cas looked confused, "why?"

Dean chuckled as he turned the lock on the door, "why do you think?" he strolled back over to the bed, sitting on the edge.

"Are we..." Cas watched Dean pull his t-shirt off.

"You're so fucking innocent," Dean scooted over to Cas, still grinning, "let me put it like this," he grabbed the front of Cas' shirt, yanking him closer. Cas inhaled sharply at the sudden closeness, freezing up when Dean crushed his lips against his. Immediately Dean broke the kiss and backed off, "what's wrong?" he asked, worried.

"Dean, I just got an idea."


	16. Humans Are Not Spoons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Metatron barricaded in heaven, every plan Dean, Cas, and Sam had seems to boil down to one option: Dean is going to have to die, which causes a lot of turmoil in the cabin. With twenty-four hours to come up with another plan, Dean isn't concerned. Things will work out, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for how long this took me to write/post. My laptop isn't working, so I've had limited computer access. I'll try to make more time to complete this. Enjoy! Thank you so much for all the support!! Feel free to share this and leave comments/kudos! ((And check out my other fics!))

"Talk about a mood killer," Dean flopped down on his back, "what's this amazing idea, Cas?" he asked, visibly annoyed by the ruined moment.

"I was human and now I'm an angel again because of Grace. I can go into Heaven without any trouble," Cas was rambling.

"Yeah, and?" Dean was getting impatient. There was nothing he hated more than distractions in an intimate situation.

"If you had Grace, you wouldn't have to die to get into Heaven," Cas said finally, waiting for Dean's reaction.

Dean frowned for a moment, thinking, before speaking, "so what you're saying is we're going to gank an angel, steal his mojo and juice me up with it?" 

"It would prevent us from having to summon Metatron here," Cas smiled hopefully at Dean, "Sam would be safe," he added, trying to sweeten the deal.

"I don't know, Cas," Dean sighed, rolling onto his side to look at Cas, "it's a good idea, but, I don't think-"

"You can't use the hunter excuse," Cas interrupted him, "you were turned into a vampire for a short period of time."

"I wasn't going to," Dean rolled his eyes, "I was going to say that if I got all mojo-ed up, I'm not sure I could go back to being human."

"You wouldn't have to," Cas said sheepishly.

Dean closed his eyes, "no, Cas. I can't do that. We need to stick to the plan."

"Why not?" Cas demanded, "You always rush toward death, Dean. I don't understand your reasoning."

"Cas," Dean sighed, opening his eyes, "look, I'm only saying this once and I swear if you ever mention it again, I'll gank you myself. I'm scared. There, I said it," Dean sat up, "I'm freakin' terrified to have that kind of power. I saw what power did to you," Cas flinched at the memory as Dean spoke, "and I don't want the same thing to happen to me. I don't want to fuck everything up."

"I won't let you end up with the same fate as me," Cas said quietly, looking at his hands. He couldn't look at Dean. The past always had a way of creeping up and it never ceased to physically pain him to think about. If he were to choose one thing in his existence to regret, lying to Dean and Sam was it. 

"Cas, I couldn't go through with your plan," Dean touched Cas' hand, "trust me, we'll figure everything out. Stop worrying so much."

"You realize that if you commit suicide for your plan, you won't go to heaven," Cas said grimly, still not looking at Dean.

"Sam won't have a problem ganking me after all I put him through," Dean chuckled, lacing his fingers with Cas', "what are you so worried about?"

"If Sam won't do it, it'll fall on me," Cas squeezed Dean's hand, closing his eyes, "I won't do that."

"Then we'll have to make sure we get Metatron out of his hiding place," Dean lifted Cas' chin with his free hand, "the coward can't hide forever."

Cas finally opened his eyes, "since when are you so optimistic?"

Dean raised an eyebrow, "well, you see, there's this guy and he's kind of important, so I have a reason to have hope now," he smirked at Cas.

A range of emotions flickered across Cas' face before his cheeks flushed a furious shade of pink, "oh," he smiled awkwardly, "are you sure it's wise to let your emotions decide your fate?" he asked, his smile fading slightly.

"I'm not dead yet," Dean said indifferently, shrugging, "and besides, you're my extra motivation not to die. I guess you always have been. Everything will work out. Just promise me you'll be with me until the end, okay?"

Cas tightened his grip on Dean's hand, "only if you promise the same."

Dean leaned forward and ghosted his lips against Cas', "until the end," he murmured, "I promise," he added in a whisper before pressing their lips together. 

Innocent kissing lead to clothes being torn off. Cas straddled Dean, kissing him deeply. The fear of losing Dean was still in the back of his mind, but he refused to let it ruin what could possibly be his last night with Dean. It wasn't until Dean broke the kiss that Cas realized there were tears in his eyes.

"You're crying," Dean said, breathless from the impromptu make out session. He sat up and hugged Cas to his chest, "you're not still on about me possibly dying, are you?" he asked, kissing the top of Cas' head.

Cas nodded, wrapping his arms around Dean, "I'm trying not to think about it," he mumbled, brushing his lips against Dean's collar bone, "but this might be your last night. I can't ignore that. I want to-"

"Well, you know what I want?" Dean cut Cas off, "It isn't sex."

Cas sat back and looked at Dean, confused, "but-"

"We're not fucking tonight. Not with you in this frame of mind. I don't want you thinking like everything is coming to an end," Dean caressed Cas' cheek.

"Then what are we doing tonight?" Cas leaned into Dean's touch.

"Absolutely nothing," Dean grinned, "we're treating tonight like a normal night. Maybe I'll drink the rest of the beer in the fridge and watch cartoons on TV. Then I'm going to fall asleep next to you. I'll even let you be the big spoon."

"I'm not a spoon," Cas noted.

Dean chuckled, "spooning, Cas. It's like cuddling."

"Why didn't you just say you wanted to cuddle?" Cas cocked his head to the side.

"Fine, you can be the little spoon if you're going to be a little bitch," Dean winked at Cas, "grab my pants, will you? I think I'm going to go wake Sam up. It's drinking time."

Cas tossed Dean's jeans at him, "perhaps you should think of a better way to spend your last night than drinking," he said quietly, reaching for his sweatpants.

"Are you really going to start this argument now?" Dean rolled his eyes, sighing loudly.

"It doesn't have to be an argument," Cas suggested, climbing off the bed, "I was only saying that dealing with Metatron isn't something to take lightly. Drinking won't make getting rid of him any easier."

"I'm really not concerned about Metatron," Dean picked up his shirt and pulled it on, "I'm your Prophet and you said you're going to be God. Metatron isn't going to fuck with that. We'll be fine."

Cas grabbed Dean's arm, harder than necessary, causing Dean to wince, "Dean."

"Shit, Cas, loosen up," Dean tried to yank his arm out of Cas' vice grip, but Cas only help on tighter, "that's going to leave a mark, cut it out."

"Listen to me, Dean Winchester, you stubborn son of a bitch," Cas' voice was gravelly, almost dangerous, "just because a path is laid before us, doesn't mean that it will unravel how we want it to. Metatron could easily kill us both and take over. You're not the Prophet yet," he let go of Dean's arm, "I knew I would regret telling you everything," he added in a whisper to himself, leaving the room.

Dean watched Cas shut the door, leaving him alone in the bedroom. It wasn't as if he and Cas had never gotten into an argument- it usually left Dean bleeding when it happened, but this time was different. Something about the way Cas looked at him- there was something in his eyes that made Dean uneasy. He'd never seen Cas look so genuinely terrified. Metatron was a douche bag, but this was ridiculous. There was something Cas wasn't telling him. He knew it.

When Dean finally left the bedroom, Cas and Sam were nowhere to be seen. He poked his head into the kitchen, but it was empty. After grabbing a beer out of the fridge, he made his way down to the basement where he last saw Sam. He flipped the light on and walked down the stairs.

Sam was sprawled out, snoring, on the beaten up couch they were sitting on earlier. Dean could help but laugh to himself. He strolled over to the couch and shook Sam's shoulder, "Sammy, wake up."

Sam swatted at Dean's hand, "five more minutes," he grumbled, covering his face with a throw pillow.

"Rise and shine," Dean said, a bit louder.

Sam let out a loud groan and opened his eyes, "what do you want, Dean?" he said up and rubbed his eyes, yawning.

"Sorry to wake you, Sleeping Beauty," Dean chuckled, sitting on the arm of the chair. He handed the beer to Sam, "have you seen Cas?"

"He was with you," Sam put the beer on the coffee table, pushing over so Dean could sit on the couch.

"No shit," Dean sat next to Sam, "he pitched a fit and took off. I don't know if he's even here."

"You know how Cas is. He's probably invisible or something," Sam mumbled, still half-asleep, "what did you do to piss him off?"

"Who says it was me?" Dean shot a dirty look at Sam.

"If Cas took off, it was probably your fault," Sam shrugged, yawning again, "what happened?"

"I don't know. Something about me not taking Metatron seriously," Dean shrugged, not wanting to tell Sam the entire story. He knew it was his fault that Cas stormed out, but he wasn't admitting that. 

"You never take anything seriously. I don't blame him for getting pissed off," Sam glanced at Dean, looking apologetic for being for blunt, "he'll turn up, Dean."

"Thanks for making me feel better," Dean said sarcastically.

"I thought we were being honest with each other," Sam reached for the beer and took a sip, "would you rather I tell you that Cas is probably just having a bad day and needed some alone time?"

"Why did I even bother coming to you?" Dean got up off the couch, and headed back toward the stairs.

"Sorry, Dean," the couch creaked at Sam stood up, "I don't know what you want me to say. You know Cas'll turn up. He always does. You can't blame him for being on edge..."

"He's overreacting. Metatron is just a cowardly douchebag," Dean started up the stairs, Sam close behind him, "he's more scared of us than we are of him."

"I don't know," Sam said quietly, "maybe there's something Cas isn't telling us. He might have more than one reason to be afraid of Metatron."

Dean stopped in the middle of the staircase, "he does," he swore to himself, "I almost forgot. I'm an asshole," Dean continued up the stairs and walked out into the hall, toward the living room.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, confused, "Did I miss something?"

"When you were MIA, Cas had a dream about Metatron and went to find him," Dean sunk down onto the loveseat, "and got the ever-loving shit beaten out of him. I guess I blocked it from my mind," he flinched thinking about how weak Cas was.

"I don't blame you," Sam swirled the bottle of beer before taking a long pull off it. Mid-sip he coughed, spitting the beer out, "wait, was that before I...er...Gadreel met you guys in that parking lot?"

"Yeah," Dean swallowed hard, remembering the incident clearly, "I should have made Cas stay at the bunker."

"I'm sorry, Dean," Sam finished the beer and put it down on a side table.

"Will you stop blaming yourself for shit Gadreel did? He's getting what he deserves now," Dean said darkly, "let's try and figure out a plan to get rid of that other bag of dicks now."

Sam didn't argue, "I thought we were going to wait for Crowley."

"If we summon Metatron here, it's not going to turn out well," Dean propped his feet up on the coffee table, "I need to go to Metatron. He isn't going to make our job easy."

"So you're saying you'd rather die than summon him?" Sam frowned, taking a seat on the other couch, "That sounds like a really shitty plan, Dean. If you kill yourself and the plan doesn't work, what then?"

"Actually I can't kill myself to get into Heaven," Dean said sheepishy, "I would need you to do that."

"I'm not killing you, Dean," Sam said without hesitation, "that's stupid."

"Come on, Sam!" Dean pleaded, "Cas refused to. I need your help."

"No," Sam folded his arms, staring at Dean, "I won't do it."

Dean sighed dramatically, "this is freaking ridiculous."

"What's ridiculous is how you're begging me to kill you," Sam said, his voice even, "I'd like to know what plan B is."

"Plan B is Cas and I gank an angel and juice me up with his mojo," Dean said, visibly disgusted at the very suggestion.

"Angels can get into heaven without dying. That's not a bad plan, Dean," Sam said thoughtfully, "mojo up, kill Metatron. What's the issue?"

"Can you imagine me with that kind of power, Sam?" Dean shook his head solemnly, "If I go crazy with power, I'd ruin everything. You know damn well I have no self control."

Sam grimaced, "is this about Cas again?" he asked reluctantly, remembering when Cas tried to be God, "You're afraid."

"Shut up, I'm not afraid. I just know how I am," Dean rolled his eyes, "stealing a Grace isn't a plan. It's a disaster waiting to happen."

Sam held up his hands in defense, "chill out, Dean. I get it. So, you don't want to summon Metatron or steal an Angel's grace...you're actually leaning toward dying?"

"It's the only option," Dean shrugged indifferently.

"You're selfish," Sam scowled at him, "did you stop and think how you dying would affect Cas and I?"

"It would suck, but, at least you wouldn't have to deal with my bullshit anymore," Dean pulled at a loose string on his jeans, "Cas would probably be relieved. I'm a constant pain in his ass," Sam snorted at the choice of words, "not like that," he paused, "well, yeah like that too, but you know what I meant!"

Sam laughed, "maybe stop talking."

"Leave me alone," Dean folded his arms, pouting. He felt his cheeks burning from embarrassment. It didn't help that Sam was still laughing at him.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," Sam was still snickering, "so, maybe we should find Cas and wait for Crowley before we do anything we might regret," he said, trying not to laugh again.

"Cas is obviously pissed off at me. He's gone," Dean got up off the couch, "he had the right idea. Getting out while he still could."

"Cas didn't abandon us. I'm sure he's around here somewhere," Sam watched Dean pace the parlor.

"We're alone now and will be lucky if Crowley even shows up," Dean looked at the clock, "six hours to go. We're fucked, Sammy. I can't believe Cas played us again."

"Did I miss something?" Cas' familiar voice made Dean jump.

"Where the hell did you go?" Dean turned to face Cas. 

"Outside," Cas was frowning, "I needed to clear my head, but I heard bickering and came to see what happened."

"Dean thought you abandoned us," Sam explained, "he was worried."

"Shut up, Sam," Dean hissed, "I was not."

"I'll let you deal with him," Sam said to Cas as he got off the couch and went back down to the basement.

"I thought I told you I would stay with you until the end," Cas said as soon as Sam closed the basement door.

Dean shrugged, "well you almost broke my arm and then stormed out. What was I supposed to think?"

"You're being dramatic," Cas glanced at Dean's arm, where a large bruise had formed. He frowned, "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I'm fine," Dean covered the bruise with his hand. He refused to make eye contact with Cas. 

"I don't believe you," Cas took a few cautious steps toward Dean. 

Dean turned his back on Cas, "I don't care if you believe me or not," he mumbled, "I'm fine."

"You're acting like a child," Cas touched Dean's shoulder, "please, Dean. Talk to me."

"And say what?" Dean still didn't look at Cas.

"Anything," Cas whispered, "please don't shut me out."

"We don't have a freaking plan, Cas," Dean sighed, "we're all going to die unless we do something."

"What do you want to do?" Cas asked calmly, running his hand down Dean's arm to grab his hand.

"The only option is to wait until Crowley gets here," Dean leaned back against Cas, who wrapped his free arm around Dean's middle, "Gabe told us we could trust Crowley and I trust Gabe."

"What do we do until Crowley gets here?" Cas inquired, hugging Dean to his chest.

"Can we please just lay in bed and ignore reality?" Dean closed his eyes as he felt Cas' lips brush against his neck.

"Are you suggesting we be eating utensils?" Cas nipped at Dean's ear lobe.

Dean snorted, "spooning, Cas," he felt Cas smile and grinned, "come on, let's just relax."

"Spooning is such a strange phrase," Cas mused, following Dean to the bedroom, "how are spoons romantic?"

"You ask the weirdest fucking questions, man," Dean shook his head, chuckling.

"You're only saying that because you don't have an answer," Cas was still smiling as he sat on the bed.

"My answer is for you to shut your pie hole and be my big spoon," Dean shut the bedroom door and walked over to the bed.

"Like a serving spoon?" Cas asked, letting Dean pull him onto the bed.

"Just lay down," Dean instructed, and Cas did as he was told, "perfect," Dean snuggled up against Cas' chest, draping Cas' arm over his waist as he finally relaxed, "and there you have it. The big spoon."

"I don't feel like a spoon, Dean," Cas ran his thumb along Dean's hip bone.

"You're not supposed to," Dean mumbled, closing his eyes.

"Then why are you calling me a big spoon?" Cas sounded extremely confused.

"To make you ask questions," Dean yawned, "grab a blanket, will you?"

Cas pulled a blanket over the two of them, "that doesn't answer my question."

"It wasn't supposed to," Dean tugged the blanket up to his shoulders.

"I'm confused," Cas sighed, "you're extremely frustrating sometimes."

"I know," Dean smiled to himself, "but that's why you love me."

Cas kissed Dean's jaw, "actually, I love you because you're you." 

"Flaws and all?" Dean asked, starting to doze off. He didn't realize how exhausted he actually was.

"Especially the flaws," Cas hugged him closer.

"Mmm," Dean hummed, "love your flaws too," was the last thing he remembered saying before he fell asleep.


	17. Talk Dirty To Me In Enochian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has a dream that hinders the plan to destroy Metatron, but little does Team Free Will know, Crowley will come with the solution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit short, but I promise the coming chapters will be longer. But, with longer chapters means a longer waiting time for me to post them. I'd say this fic is about 60% complete. It's getting there. I know how it all ends, so bear with me while I mentally prepare myself to write it. :)
> 
> Thanks again for all the support! I love you, Destiel fans!

_A high pitched ringing woke Dean out of a dead sleep. Squinting from the bright sunlight, he looked around. Birds were chirping and a gentle breeze flirted with the trees, filling the air with the scent of wildflowers and foliage. Everything was picture perfect, but Dean felt uneasy. It was a little too perfect._

_"Where the hell am I?" Dean asked himself, blinking a few times so his eyes could adjust to the brightness._

_There was no one in sight, so Dean strolled across the freshly trimmed grass, toward a small house just off in the distance. The house was white with blue shutters, and even had a picket fence. But, as Dean came closer to the house, clouds started to fill the sky, and thunder rumbled off in the distance. By the time he reached the gate, it had started to rain. He jogged across the stone path and up the stairs. Just as he was about the knock, the door opened on it's own._

_"Hello?" Dean cautiously poked his head inside, "Anyone home?" he took a step inside and his nose was infiltrated with the smell of something delicious baking. It had to be pie, Dean thought. Only pie smelled this heavenly._

_Dean wandered in the direction of the smell, almost in a daze, until he heard his name. The familiar voice made him jump, "Cas?" he turned and saw Cas standing a few feet behind him. Except it wasn't the Cas he was accustomed to. It looked like Cas, but there was something off._

_"Dean Winchester," Cas said again, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, "nice of you to come visit me. I thought the pie would get you here eventually."_

_"You're not Cas," Dean instinctively reached for his pocket where he usually kept his gun, but there was nothing there. Just an empty pocket._

_"You got me," the Cas look-alike shrugged, a smarmy grin overtaking his face, "you wouldn't talk to me if I used my normal form," he snapped his fingers and immediately turned into the short, stout vessel Metatron had been using all along._

_"Metatron," Dean clenched his fists, "what am I doing here?"_

_"You're so hostile," Metatron laughed, breezing past Dean into the kitchen, "have some pie. Relax."_

_"What do you want?" Dean asked gruffly, turning to watch Metatron. He didn't even want to blink._

_"To talk," Metatron grabbed a pot holder and pulled the pie out of the oven, placing it on the counter, "pie?" he asked, opening a cupboard to grab a couple of plates._

_"No," Dean reluctantly took a few steps into the kitchen, "tell me what I'm doing here."_

_"It's a dream, Dean. It's the only way I could get through to you," Metatron cut himself a slice of pie and made himself comfortable at the kitchen table, sitting down on one of the oak chairs._

_"Well, here I am," Dean folded his arms, "talk."_

_"You're being impolite," Metatron took a bite of the pie, closing eyes eyes, savoring it before speaking again, "come join me."_

_Dean bit his lip watching Metatron eat, "I'm fine," he mumbled, "now tell me what the hell you want."_

_Metatron looked at Dean, his eyes suddenly cold, as he put his fork down, "have it your way then," he shrugged, "this plan you have. The one to kill me. It's not going to work. Surely Cas has told you this?"_

_Dean frowned, "what are you talking about?"_

_"You know," Metatron raised an eyebrow, "the one where you die, go to heaven and kill me so you can Cas can be together forever. Not going to work, Dean," Dean didn't say anything, so he continued, "I'm the scribe of God. Do you really think one of your little angel blades it going to work? Come on, Dean. I thought you'd be smarter than that. Oh, and I hope you weren't hoping to see your dead friends again. I've dealt with them. Pathetic souls."_

_Dean inhaled slowly, pursing his lips, unable to say anything. He didn't break eye contact with Metatron._

_"Don't give me that look," Metatron smiled in a faux apology, "you must have known there was no way a puny human could kill the scribe of God."_

_"You're lying," Dean croaked, finally finding his voice._

_"Oh, but I'm not the one lying. Perhaps you should talk to my old friend, Castiel," Metatron's grin broadened when Dean flinched at the mention of Cas' name, "the effect Castiel has on your is intriguing. You trust him so blindly, even after all the times he lied to you. You know angels aren't capable of love, right?"_

_"Shut up," Dean yelled, he'd finally had enough, "you listen to me, you bag of dicks. You can put yourself up on a pedestal, but at the end of the day, you're still an angel. I may not be able to stab you, but I'll find a way to destroy you. Don't you worry about that."_

_"I could easily destroy everyone you hold dear," Metatron said nonchalantly, "I took it easy on Castiel. Gabriel, on the other hand," he laughed darkly, "he's gone for good. Not even his soul escaped."_

_"You son of a bitch," Dean rounded on him, "I'll kill you right here, right now," he punched Metatron hard in the cheek, feeling his knuckles break immediately, "you're nothing but a coward," he let his fist fly again, ignoring the excruciating pain. Metatron was like a stone, unmoving, still smiling, "fuck!" Dean howled out of frustration, hitting Metatron once more._

_"Are you quite done?" Metatron asked after the third punch, "If this wasn't a dream, I'd rip your soul out of your body with my bare hands and destroy it before your body hit the floor," he said, snarling, as he grabbed the front of Dean's shirt to pull him closer, "and there isn't a single thing anyone could do to save you," he added in dangerous whisper, "I will be the one to end you, Dean Winchester."_

"Dean?" 

Cas' voice made Dean jump, sitting straight up in bed, "I'm up," he mumbled, looking around; a feeling a relief washed over him when he realized he was back in Gabriel's cabin. It was dark outside and he wondered how long he'd been asleep.

"You were talking in your sleep," Cas was sitting Indian-style, holding a pillow, watching Dean. He looked worried, "you said Metatron's name."

Dean nodded, still half-asleep, "it was just a dream," he laid back down, facing Cas, and pulled the blanket over himself, "don't worry about it," he said, yawning.

"Dean," Cas gave Dean a disapproving look.

"It was nothing, Cas," Dean held the blanket up, "come here."

Cas shook his head petulantly, "not until you tell me what you saw."

Dean sighed dramatically, "fine. Metatron came to me in a dream and told me that we couldn't gank him. And that you knew the plan wouldn't work. Is that true, Cas? Did you know?"

Cas' eyes widened. He didn't say anything.

"Cas?" Dean sat up again, "You knew, didn't you?"

Reluctantly, Cas nodded, still not speaking.

"That's why you suggested we steal some angel's grace," Dean understood now, "because human me couldn't kill Metatron."

"Dean, I-"

"No, Cas," Dean shook his head, disappointed, "I thought we were past all the lying. Why couldn't you just tell me?"

"I tried to," Cas said quietly, "you wouldn't listen."

"You told me I had to become something I've hunted in the past," Dean glared at Cas, "of course I didn't listen. You could have just told me I was a fucking idiot for thinking we could just gank Metatron and live happily ever after."

"How is you being dead a happy ending for anyone?" Cas looked hurt.

"At this point it looks like I'm dying no matter what," Dean scooted off the bed and stood up, stretching, "I pissed off Metatron in my dream, so I'm fucked, Cas. I might as well enjoy myself while I figure out what to do."

"Dean, I'm sorry," Cas watched Dean put his shirt on, "I wanted to tell you...but I'd already told you so much. I didn't want to overwhelm you."

"Well the cat's out of the bag now," Dean turned to look at Cas, "you might as well tell me everything now. So, the only way I'm killing Metatron is if I mojo up. What else haven't you told me?"

"What else did Metatron tell you?" Cas asked shyly.

"You know what? I don't think it matters," Dean folded his arms, "he said enough. Now we need to come up with a plan, or, I'll just go in blind and hope he kills me fast."

"Metatron will have to go through me first if he wants you, Dean," Cas said firmly.

"Oh, are you going to tell me you love me? Because Metatron said that angels weren't capable of love," Dean felt a lump rising up in his throat.

"That's true," Cas got off the bed, closing the distance between him and Dean, "but most angels haven't had the experiences I have," he grabbed Dean's hands, lacing their fingers together, "I know it's hard for you to believe anything I say, but when I say I love you, I say it in the most genuine way I can possibly manage," he stared at Dean, unblinking as he spoke, "Before I fell, I wouldn't have thought love was possible, but everything is different when I'm around you, Dean. How many different ways do I have to say it? I'm in love with you, Dean Winchester, and not even Metatron can change that," Cas stood on his tip-toes and kissed Dean, "I love you, _paid rah_ ," he added in a husky whisper, brushing their lips together again.

"Pah-deh-rah?" Dean asked, butchering the Enochian pronunciation.

Cas chuckled, "It means, always and forever," he squeezed Dean's hands.

"You think sweet talking me in Enochian is going to make me forget that I'm mad?" Dean asked, unable to hide the smile playing at his lips.

"It was worth a try," Cas pressed a few kisses along Dean's jaw, "did it work?"

"I don't know," Dean murmured, shivering when Cas nipped at his ear.

"What about now?" Cas let go of one of Dean's hands, cupping Dean's cheek as he kissed him again, flicking his tongue against his lip.

"Mm," Dean closed his eyes, opening his mouth a little, letting Cas kiss him. 

Cas released Dean's other hand, in favor of looping it around Dean's waist, pulling him closer. He slid the hand on Dean's cheek to the nape of his neck, pinning his lips against Dean's. With a low groan Dean pushed both of them toward the bed. Cas' knees buckled against the side of the mattress and they fell onto the bed, but lost their balance and ended up sliding off the mattress, landing on the floor with a thud. 

Dean tried to get up, but Cas pinned him on his back, straddling one of his legs. He continued to ravage Dean's lips, a smile evident on his face as he tugged at the t-shirt Dean just put on, "take it off," he growled, nipping at Dean's lower lip.

"I can't. You kinda have me pinned down, buddy," Dean chuckled airily, groaning as Cas rolled his hips, ghosting affectionate kisses down his chin.

Cas didn't ease up, instead he put his full weight on Dean, dragging his teeth along Dean's jawline, stopping at his ear, "you're my bitch now," Cas whispered, smirking as Dean wriggled underneath him, "I thought you didn't want sex tonight," he added, feeling Dean's enthusiasm brushing against his thigh.

"I didn't say that," Dean breathed, shivered as Cas played with the hem of his t-shirt, letting his fingers tickle the sliver of skin showing.

"You did," Cas murmured, gripping Dean's waist with one hand, "you said we're not fucking tonight."

"Was I wrong?" Dean asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Cas sat back on his knees, letting Dean sit up, "I...maybe?" naive Cas was back, and looking more confused than ever, "I don't know what came over me...I don't want to go against your wishes, Dean," he stood up and offered his hand to Dean, who took it and got up.

"How did I get so lucky?" Dean smiled, pulling Cas into a tight embrace, carding his fingers through the dark, tousled hair.

"I ask myself the same question," Cas sighed, wrapping his arms around Dean, nuzzling into the nape of his neck, breathing in the smell of faded cologne and sweat. The Dean smell he'd grown so accustomed to. The smell that never ceased to relax him. The smell he'd never forget because it meant home, and home was wherever Dean was. 

The embrace seemed to last for hours. Nothing was said, and nothing needed to be said. Even with the arguments, bickering and high risk of death, they loved each other. Sure, Dean would have loved for Cas to bend him over and fuck him until he saw stars, but sometimes being close didn't have to entail sex. He was content standing here with the one being who made him feel whole. His soul mate, his lover, his everything. 

Dean and Cas' contentment wasn't even interrupted by Sam's footsteps down the hall, or the bedroom door creaking open. Only when Sam cleared his throat were they brought back to reality, "really, guys?" Sam was giving them a cheeky smile. The kind of smile that would normally be taken as sarcastic or annoyed, but Sam was almost as excited as Dean about the relationship. He knew they'd end up together eventually, and in a way he was glad that he was missing in action so they could realize their love for one another. 

Dean bumped a kiss on Cas' forehead before letting him go, "what is it?" he asked Sam, letting his hand linger on the small of Cas' back.

"Crowley should be here any time," Sam leaned against the door frame, glancing from Dean to Cas, "what's our game plan?" he asked, his voice uneasy.

Dean simply shrugged, "no idea. Humans can't kill Douchey McGee, so we'll have to see what Crowley says, I guess."

Sam nodded, looking nervous, "What about using an angel's grace?" he asked reluctantly, knowing Dean's answer, but wanting to ask nonetheless.

"No," Dean said firmly, "if we're ganking Metatron, I'm doing it as me."

"You'll still be you, Dean," Cas said quietly, "just a more powerful you."

"Cas, I said no," Dean looked at him, "we're dropping that plan now. I don't want to hear about it again."

"Maybe you should think about it, Dean. I mean, it might work," Sam chimed in, furrowing his brow, "sure, it's a risk too...but we're kind of running out of ideas."

"Is it an idea you're looking for?" Crowley's heavily accented voice made all three of them jump, "I might have your ticket, boys," he said smugly, "well, Gadreel had the ticket, but we don't have to worry about him anymore," he added, smiling malevolently, "he's been taken care of."

"You killed Gadreel?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I did what needed to be done," Crowley shrugged, "but I have some valuable information now, that is, if you want it."

"Dammit Crowley, stop screwing around and tell us," Dean dropped his hand from Cas' back and folded his arms, "we're kind of running out of time here."

"Easy, lover boy," Crowley narrowed his eyes, his smile unfaltering, "you have plenty of time. Metatron isn't coming out of hiding anytime soon."

"Oh, that's just great," Dean huffed, "how about you tell us what the hell we're going to do now?"

"First you're going to thank me," Crowley picked a piece of lint off his suit coat.

"For what? You haven't told us anything, you dick," Dean rolled his eyes.

"So be it," Crowley reached into his coat and pulled out a long, rusted chisel and handed it to Dean, "you're welcome, squirrel," he cooed, brushing past Sam and disappearing into the hall.

"What the hell is this?" Dean asked, looking at Cas.

"It's a chisel," Sam said, looking confused, "what are we going to do with a chisel?"

Cas gently took the chisel from Dean and examined it for a moment before inhaling sharply, "this isn't just any chisel," he looked at Dean, wide-eyed, "this is the chisel Metatron used to write the Word of God."


	18. Not Quite The Stairway to Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Crowley, they now had a weapon and a means to get into Heaven, but that doesn't stop Cas from being worried about the outcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's getting to the point in the fic where the ending is in sight. And I know how it's going to end. Updates will be more sporadic because chapters will be longer...but I'm estimating that there are less than 4 chapters remaining.
> 
> Thanks again for all the support! It's motivated me this far, and I appreciate it!

"What's so good about a stupid chisel?" Dean asked, watching Cas examining the chisel.

"Metatron's heart and soul went into writing the tablets. This was his tool," Cas looked at Dean, "and technically it could be used as a weapon to destroy him."

"What better way to kill a scribe, than with his own tool," Sam mused, "I wouldn't have even thought of that."

"I want to know how Crowley thought of it," Dean strolled out of the bedroom and went out into the parlor, where Crowley had made himself at home with a glass of bourbon. He looked up when Dean walked in.

"Are you here to thank me, squirrel?" Crowley asked smugly.

"I'll thank you when we figure out a way to gank the bastard without anyone else dying," Dean said stubbornly, taking a seat on the other couch, "so, are you going to tell us how you got the chisel?"

"I'm very persuasive," Crowley grinned wickedly, swirling his glass of liquor, "by the time I was through with Gadreel, he practically gift-wrapped the bloody thing for me."  
Cas and Sam wondered into the parlor. Cas sat down next to Dean while Sam helped himself to a beer in the fridge. Dean smiled when Cas brushed his hand against his thigh, "Gadreel's dead then," Dean assumed.

"Worse," Crowley's smile didn't falter, "my minions are having a little play date with him down in the pit."

"He deserves it," Sam chimed in, taking a long pull off the beer he just opened, "what's the plan, Crowley?"

"That chisel needs to get embedded into Metatron's heart," Crowley took a sip of his drink and cringed, "this bourbon tastes like piss."

"Great plan. And how are Sam and I going to get into heaven to do that?" Dean frowned at Crowley, "It's not Sam and I can just walk into heaven."

"Here's where it gets fun, lover boy," Crowley put his glass on the coffee table, "there's a spell to open a portal for humans, but only one of you boys can get through. And here's the kicker: Castiel needs to pull you through the portal, or you're not coming back. Ever."

"Why can't we both go?" Sam sat down next to Crowley, "Cas could take both of us."

"One soul per angel, Moose," Crowley smirked at him, "the portal is basically the back entrance, which Dean seems to have mastered," he winked at Dean, who gave him the one finger salute, "That and we can't have both Winchesters sneaking into heaven at once. It would draw too much attention."

"So, I'm not going," Sam looked disappointed, "Why can't you take me through the portal?"

"I'm not an idiot. Did you think I was going into heaven?" Crowley laughed without humor, "This is up to those morons. If they fail, it's on you, Moose."

"We're not going to fail," Dean said confidently.

"We'll see about that," Crowley got up, "now how about you boys go ahead and grab the supplies for me," he pulled a piece of parchment out of his suit jacket, "Gabriel ensured me he has everything."

Sam took the paper from Crowley and skimmed over it, "you're sure this is going to work?" he asked, standing up.

Cas stood up and gently took the paper from Sam, "where did you get this spell?"

"Gadreel was rather helpful," Crowley walked over to the window and looked outside, "he used it to escape heaven, apparently."

"When are we doing this?" Dean asked, vacating the couch.

"At dawn. The spell specifically says it needs to be done at dawn," Cas said quietly, giving the paper back to Sam.

"Dawn?" Dean glanced at the wall clock, "We're cutting it kind of close...it's almost five."

"Well stop chatting and get to work," Crowley hissed, walking into the kitchen, "chop, chop, boys!"

"I'll go downstairs and grab everything," Sam said, leaving the parlor.

"Dean," Cas touched Dean's hand, "we need to talk."

Dean nodded and headed toward the bedroom, Cas following a few steps behind him. When Cas shut the bedroom door, he looked at Cas expectantly. When Cas didn't say anything, he spoke, "what's up, Cas?"

Cas didn't look at Dean, he was focused on the weathered wood floor, "you're the only one who can kill Metatron."

Dean sat on the bed, "and you're worried?" 

"You need to get close enough to Metatron to use the chisel. Yes, I'm worried," Cas finally looked at Dean, his eyes wide, "if Metatron kills you, things won't end well, Dean."

"Well then I won't let the bastard kill me," Dean shrugged, "you can distract him while I stab him. It'll work, Cas. Stop giving me that look."

Cas frowned, "you're so sure of yourself. I wish I had that confidence."

"There's two things I'm good at, Cas. Fucking and ganking monsters," Dean grinned, "but you already knew that."

Cas finally smiled, "when this is over, I might need a reminder."

"And there's the motivation to not die," Dean chuckled and stood up, "we'd better get back out there before we get distracted," he closed the distance between himself and Cas, wrapping his arms around the smaller man, "you ready?"

Cas rested his forehead on Dean's chest, "no," he mumbled, relaxing a little when Dean hugged him tighter.

"We can do this," Dean kissed the top of Cas' head, "come on, buddy. You're supposed to be the one telling me things will be okay. You literally beat the shit out of me for doubting myself. I'm not letting you doubt us."

Cas sighed when Dean let him go, "you're right. If you're not worried, I shouldn't be," he smiled weakly, "I think I'm ready now."

"Good," Dean leaned in and gave Cas a quick peck on the lips before heading toward the door. He stopped before grabbing the handle and looked back at Cas, "hey...Cas?"

"What is it?" Cas furrowed his brow, cocking his head to the side.

"I love you," Dean said, his cheeks flushing as soon as the words came out. Before Cas could respond, he left the room and joined Sam and Crowley in the kitchen. 

Cas smiled to himself as he followed Dean down the hall. Sam and Crowley were crowded around an assortment of ingredients, and hardly acknowledged him and Dean. Sam was cutting up a root and Crowley was gingerly putting everything into the pot. 

When everything was all set, Crowley looked at Dean and Cas, "all we need now is your blood, Castiel," he held up the parchment, "and you need to read the spell because my Enochian is rusty," he turned to Dean, "the moment Castiel starts the spell, you need to hold onto him. And for the love of Lucifer, don't let go until you're in heaven. It'd be a pity if you exploded or something."

"I'm sure you'd be devastated," Dean rolled his eyes.

Cas grabbed Dean's hand, "it's almost dawn. It's now or never."

"Good luck," Sam said, looking helpless, "I'll see you when you get back."

Dean let go of Cas' hand so he could hug Sam, "this'll be a piece of pie," he paused, releasing his brother, "speaking of pie, there had better be some here when I get back."

"Pie. Got it," Sam laughed, "I'll just walk out into the tundra and hope there's a store with pie."

"Crowley, pie," Dean said walking back over to Cas, taking his hand again.

"I'm not your errand boy," Crowley spat, but a smile was evident on his face, "don't fuck up, you two."

Cas squeezed Dean's hand, pulling him toward the pot. Crowley handed him a knife, which he took and pressed it against his forearm, letting his blood trickle down into the mixture of herbs and roots, " _CNILA PVGO CNILA, BVTMON TABGES_ **," he chanted, grasping Dean's hand tighter as a bright light filled the room, surrounding him and Dean. 

For a moment, Dean blacked out. When he came to, Cas was still holding his hand, and they were standing on a beach. Gentle waves broke on the beach as the sun rose over the ocean. Dean looked at Cas, who was mesmerized by the water, "did it work?" he asked quietly.

"This is where I was born," Cas smiled to himself, "the last angel, born from the sea."

"I've never been to the beach," Dean breathed in the salty air, "when this is over we should get a cabin next to the beach."  
Cas nodded, "I like the ocean."

As much as Dean would have loved to stay here and look at the waves with Cas, there were more pressing matters to attend to, "We should find Metatron," he said reluctantly, "any idea where to look?"

"He's on the throne," Cas let go of Dean's hand and pulled the chisel out of his sleeve, "take this and keep it hidden."

Dean tucked the chisel safely in the waistband of his jeans, "what's the plan?"

"When we get to the throne, I'll buy you as much time as I possibly can. You're going to have to sneak up on him," Cas sighed, "I'm afraid it's not much of a plan."

"It's doable," Dean said optimistically, "you talk to him while I come up from behind and give him a little taste of Winchester revenge. So where's this throne?"

Cas grabbed his hand and zapped them both to a large garden. Bushes of azaleas and hibiscus lined the pathway and the scent of jasmine filled the air. A small honey bee caught Cas' attention for a moment before he turned to Dean, "this path will take you around to the back of the throne. It's not a building, so you need to stay hidden," he spoke in a rushed whisper, "we only have one chance. Your timing has to be perfect."

Dean nodded, the reality of everything finally hitting him, "don't piss Metatron off, okay?"

Cas chuckled airily, "just like you didn't piss off Gadreel?" 

"Do a better job than I did," Dean leaned in and bumped a kiss on Cas' temple, "I'll see you soon."

"I hope so," Cas said, serious now, "I'll be with you until the end."

"Don't say it like that," Dean nudged him, "just tell me you love me and you'll see me soon."

"I'll see you soon," Cas dropped Dean's hand, "I love you, Dean," his voice cracked.

Dean cupped Cas' cheek in his hand, "and I love you, Cas," he mumbled, kissing Cas one last time, "be safe," he turned and headed down the path.

Cas watched Dean disappear into the trees before turning to walk toward the throne. He gave himself an internal pep talk as he strolled along. It wasn't the he didn't have faith in Dean, because he did; it was Metatron he didn't trust. He tried not to think of all the possible ways Metatron could destroy them both, but the thoughts plagued his mind as he came closer to Metatron's hiding place. 

A single, white marble spire seemed to rise out of nowhere, but in reality Cas was so distracted by his worries, that he hadn't noticed any of his surroundings. The garden was far behind him and he was walking along a dirt path, headed straight toward the one place he didn't want to go. 

Cas knew that if they managed to destroy Metatron, he would have to assume control of Heaven, with or without Dean. He left that detail out of the plan, because he knew Dean assumed things would go back to normal after Metatron was dealt with. But that wasn't the case at all. 

Nothing would be the same again. It couldn't be. And there was nothing Cas could do about it. But it didn't stop him from wishing his destiny wasn't predetermined by God. He truly wanted nothing more than to have a normal life with Dean. 

Then again, a normal life would get boring. He smiled to himself thinking about a quiet life with Dean, but snapped out of it when a loud clap of thunder rumbled over the valley. An uneasy feeling took him as he walked past the white spire. 

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

((**The Enochian, CNILA PVGO CNILA, BVTMON TABGES, ("kah-nee-lah puh-goh kah-nee-lah, Beh-voh-tah-mo-en tah-beh-geh-sah") roughly translates to "Blood unto blood, open the gate."))


	19. The End Of Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plan to sneak up on Metatron goes awry and Cas is left with an important decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of notes for this chapter.  
> 1\. This is the LAST CHAPTER of "Fate." BUT there will be an epilogue.  
> 2\. Major character death.  
> 3\. Torture trigger warning.  
> 4\. Feels. Lots of them.

"Castiel."

A voice behind Cas brought him to attention. Inhaling slowly, he turned, "how did you escape Hell?" he asked, unable to hide the genuine shock on his face.

A smile played the corners of Gadreel's lips, "the perks of being second in command," he said, taking a step toward Cas, "are you going to fight me or will you come willingly to the Throne? Metatron is waiting for you."

Cas eyed Gadreel, "Metatron expected me," he said evenly, unquestioning. 

"And Dean Winchester," Gadreel added.

"Dean isn't here," Cas lied, trying to remain stoic.

"You expect me to believe you'd come here alone?" Gadreel laughed without humor, taking another cautious step toward Cas, "Not a problem," he shrugged indifferently, grabbing Cas' arm, "when he's found, he'll be dealt with immediately." 

Cas tensed, "Dealt with?" he asked, not entirely sure he wanted the answer. 

"Let's just say that you won't be able to pull him out of the pit when he's been terminated," Gadreel zapped them to the center of a large, open-air, Colosseum-theater made of white marble. 

Large pillars surrounded an extravagant throne in the center of the monument. Dark clouds filled the sky, and thunder rumbled in the distance, but there was absolutely no breeze. It was unnerving. Gadreel held onto Cas, standing several yards from the throne, where Metatron was currently lounging. 

"Castiel!" Metatron said cheerfully, standing up, "You're here at last," he nodded for Gadreel to release him, "where's your little play thing...Dean Winchester? My sources tell me you used the back door." 

Cas stood silently, watching Metatron's every move. When he didn't speak, Metatron motioned for Gadreel to leave. When Gadreel was out of sight, Metatron smiled at Cas, "it would have been better for your human if you had told us where he was," he cooed, "but, I suppose we can just get down to business while we wait for them."

Cas gave Metatron a questioning look, half expecting to be killed on the spot. Finally he spoke, "what kind of business?" he asked quietly, not once looking away from Metatron.

"I can't very well be in charge with you and your Prophet around," Metatron chuckled, pulling an angel blade out of his sleeve, "sparing you two would ruin the plan."

"The plan to take over heaven and destroy Earth," Cas clenched his fists, desperately wishing he'd kept the chisel instead of giving it to Dean, "that's your plan, isn't it?"

"You make it sound like blasphemy," Metatron raised an eyebrow, "the human race are inferior. I think it's time we cleansed Earth, don't you?"

Cas glared at Metatron, narrowing his eyes, "you can't do that. God wouldn't approve of any of this," he growled, "do you honestly think you're doing what's right?"

"I know I am," Metatron beamed when Gadreel reappeared, grasping Dean, "Ah, there's the human I was waiting for. How nice of you to join us, Dean. I'm impressed that you made it as far as you did."

"Bite me," Dean said petulantly, trying to yank his arm out of Gadreel's grip.

"You can let him go, Gadreel. They won't try anything," Metatron said confidently, "why don't you go finish his little brother while I deal with this mess?" Gadreel nodded and disappeared, "Now, what to do with you two," he mused, a smug grin still on his lips.

Dean shot a nervous look to Cas, who was too focused on Metatron to notice. He turned his attention back to Metatron, "you're obviously going to kill us," Dean folded his arms, "do I get a final wish or are you really the biggest bag of dicks in the universe?"

Metatron clasped his hands together, amused, "I'm intrigued. What is this final wish?" 

Dean felt Cas' eyes on him, and he risked a glance, "I just want to, er," he nodded at Cas, "just once more," he said cryptically, "please," he added, sounding almost desperate.  
Metatron's face lit up, "I never thought I'd see the day when a Winchester was so eloquent and polite," Metatron was thoughtful for a moment, "You have sixty seconds. Make it count."

Dean kept an eye on Metatron as he crossed to Cas, "hey Cas," he whispered, "sorry I got caught," he grabbed Cas' hand.

Cas' expression darkened, his eyes fearful, "it's okay, Dean," he mumbled, pulling Dean into a hug with his free arm, "what's the plan?" he asked barely loud enough for even Dean to hear.

Dean let go of Cas' hand, "kiss me," he said, putting his arm around Cas, pulling him close, "let him take me first," he said, pressing his lips to Cas'. As he kissed Cas, he used his free hand to put the chisel in Cas' pocket, being sure that Metatron didn't see. When the chisel was hidden, he broke the kiss, "til the end, right?" he winked, running his fingers through Cas' hair one last time before turning to Metatron, "Get on with it, chuckles."

Metatron watched them for a moment before speaking, "I suppose it's only blasphemy if a child is concieved," he scoffed, snapping his fingers to zap Dean closer to him, "I don't know what I'll enjoy more, killing Castiel or watching his pain as I kill you," he turned the blade in his hands, admiring the workmanship, "I'm afraid I'm not as skilled as Alastair, but I do hope I can do his torture justice," he turned the blade on Dean, running it lightly down the front of his shirt.

Dean swallowed hard, unable to move, "I guess it would be stupid to ask you to just get it over with?" he chuckled to himself, watching the blade inch toward his neck.

"Why rush?" Metatron looked at Cas, "Come over here, Castiel. I want you to see every detail."

Cas' eyes widened and he slowly shook his head, "please, Metatron..."

Metatron sighed, irritated, "I said come over here," he reiterated, snapping his fingers, zapping Cas closer, "thank you, Castiel. Now pay close attention, I want you to see the exact moment the life leaves Dean's eyes."

Cas looked at Dean then back to Metatron, trying to come up with a plan. He had the chisel, but he couldn't test Metatron, not with Dean's life on the line. Defeated, he sighed, "we're defenseless. There's no need for torture." 

"Oh, but there really is. After all the obstacles you two have put in my way, you deserve everything you get," Metatron traced Dean's jaw with the blade, teasing him, "I'm not entirely sure I want to use this," he said, pulling the blade away, tossing it to the side, "I prefer the hands on approach," in a quick movement, he grabbed Dean's shoulder and pressed the palm of his other hand against Dean's chest, "I hope you didn't need your soul, Dean. I'm afraid it's about to be crudely ripped from your body."

Dean didn't have time to react before Metatron's hand disappeared in his chest, and the worst pain he'd ever felt was coursing through every ounce of his being. It was like being put in a blender, while on fire. He screamed in pain, doubling over, as Metatron forced his hand in even deeper, bringing Dean to the ground. 

"Your soul is buried down deep," Metatron said nonchalantly, a look of madness taking over his face, "I'll take my time finding it," he jerked his wrist, causing Dean to yelp and writhe in pain, "I know it's in here somewhere."

Cas had his hand on the chisel. He had one chance and he couldn't fuck it up. He had to wait for the perfect moment, but trying to focus with Dean's screaming was exceedingly difficult.

\---

*Back at the Cabin*

When the blinding light faded, Sam rubbed his eyes, "did it work?" he asked, blinking a few times, waiting for his eyes to adjust.

"I'd say so," Crowley looked at the spot where Dean and Cas just stood, "either that or they're both dead."

"That's reassuring," Sam said, scowling at Crowley, "what do we do now?"

"I don't give a rat's arse what you do. I'm having a drink," Crowley grabbed the bottle of scotch he'd dibbed into earlier and brought it over to the couch. He flopped down and picked up his half-empty glass, topping it off, "this scotch is bloody awful," he said, swirling it.

"No one's forcing you to drink it," Sam opened the fridge and grabbed a beer, "but a drink sounds good," he sat down on the love seat, "do you think the plan is going to work?"

"I doubt it," Crowley shrugged, cringing as he sipped the scotch, "but who knows. You idiots have had some serious dumb luck in the past."

Sam took a long pull from his beer, "dumb luck is actually a good word for it," he chuckled.

"I sure as hell wouldn't call it doing your job properly," Crowley smirked at Sam.

"Clearly. I mean, you're still alive," Sam rebutted, looking smug with his response.

"And to think, I thought we were mates," Crowley feigned offense, putting his glass down.

"In no, way, shape or form are you even close to being our friend," Sam said dryly, "you're supposed to trust your friends."

"After all the help I've offered, you have to nerve to tell me you can't trust me? I'm offended, Moose," Crowley said sarcastically, propping his feet up on the coffee table, "see if I help you boys ever again." 

Sam looked out the window, "What the hell?" 

"You started it, Moose. I was finishing-"

"No, you dick, look," Sam got up and looked outside, "what's with those clouds?"

Crowley rolled his eyes and stood up to see what the moose was on about, "those aren't storm clouds," he said quietly.

"Is it heaven?" Sam asked, putting his beer down on the windowsill.

"I think your brother screwed something up," Crowley squinted at the clouds building off in the distance, "oh, bollocks. I'd be willing to bet a million dollars those idiots got caught."

"What do we do?" Sam asked urgently, looking helpless.

"Nothing," Crowley didn't look at Sam. He was focused on the clouds that were rapidly filling the sky, "we wait. We'll know soon enough if those two got killed like morons."

"I don't think they're the only morons," Sam said nudging Crowley.

"Who are you calling a moron?" Crowley looked at Sam, who nodded toward the kitchen, "Oh, bollocks. How the hell did you get out of the pit?"

Gadreel sneered at Crowley, "Abaddon is much more reasonable than you. I promised in exchange for my release, I would solve her problem with you," he said, still standing in the kitchen, "a pact will be formed between Heaven and Hell. We shall rule Earth together. After all the humans are taken care of, that is."

"That little bitch," Crowley glanced at Sam, "well, Moose. It's been a pleasure, as always," he snapped his fingers and disappeared.

"What the-" Sam swore loudly, "that son of a bitch!"

"Looks like it's just you and I," Gadreel said calmly, "it's a pity you couldn't remain my vessel. We worked well together."

"You tricked Dean," Sam clenched his fists, not making a move due to his lack of a weapon, "and you made me think everything was back to normal. What the hell is your problem?"

"Your brother, Castiel, Crowley and you are currently my problem," Gadreel pulled his blade out of his sleeve, "but fortunately by the time I'm finished here, three of my four issues will be solved." 

"Dean and Cas are dead?" Sam felt his heart sink.

"Not yet," Gadreel admitted, taking a few cautious steps toward Sam, "but Metatron is taking care of them while I deal with you," he held up the blade, "it's truly regrettable to have to destroy such a strong vessel." 

Sam inhaled sharply, "what if they destroy Metatron while you're down here playing with me?" he asked, desperate to waste time.

"Playing?" Gadreel laughed darkly, twirling the blade in his hands, "You aren't going to get the...special treatment...your brother is going to get."

Sam winced at the thought of Dean being tortured, "torture is overrated," he mumbled, "the sooner you kill us, the sooner you can take over," he couldn't believe what he was saying. Maybe if he wasted enough time, Cas and Dean would pull through and gank Metatron.

"With no disadvantage, I believe Metatron can do as he pleases," Gadreel pointed the blade at Sam, "I'm under a time constraint now that your little demon friend deserted you, so why don't you make it easy for yourself and not fight?" 

"You don't have to do this," Sam gave up wasting time and decided pleading was the way to go, "Metatron is a liar...whatever he promised you is a lie. Can't you see that?" he asked, desperate.

Gadreel narrowed his eyes, "your plan to distract me won't work for long, Sam. You can't stall forever."

"I'm not stalling. I'm just saying that you're an idiot for trusting Metatron. There's still time for you to make things right," Sam argued, "look, I get it. You screwed up in the past, but that doesn't mean you can't redeem yourself. Stop this, help us destroy Metatron. I know you know, deep down, that Metatron isn't going to share the throne."

"You're the smarter Winchester. I can tell," Gadreel crossed the parlor, still holding the blade in Sam's direction, "it's a pity your speech won't do you any good," he locked eyes with Sam, "but I must say, they were very good last words."

\--- 

Dean's howls of pain echoed through the colosseum, bouncing off the pillars and intensifying as Metatron continued his assault on Dean's soul. Cas' breathing hitched when Dean locked eyes with him, "Cas, please, help me," he cried in broken phrases, tears streaking his cheeks.

Metatron laughed at every yelp, focusing on moving excruciatingly slow. He was up to his elbow in Dean's chest, humming cheerfully, "Oh, Dean. Crying isn't going to make this any easier," he purred, "Castiel, why don't you talk to him. Tell him his tears are useless," he added, a malevolent tone in his voice.

Cas had his hand on the chisel. One swift movement and it would be over. He swallowed hard, looking from Dean to Metatron, "leave Dean alone," he said finally, his voice husky.  
Metatron turned to look at Castiel, his arm still inside Dean's chest, "what are you going to do about it?" he sneered, jerking his wrist inside Dean again. 

Dean grabbed Metaton's arm while he was distracted by Cas, "you son of a bitch," he groaned in agony. 

Immediately Metatron turned back to Dean and yanked his arm out of Dean's chest, "do you ever regret something, Dean?" he asked coldly, gently cupping Dean's cheeks in his hands, "If I were in your position, I'd regret trying to hinder me," his voice was dripping in venom.

Cas' stomach dropped. He knew where this was going, "Metatron, no!" he pulled out the chisel and plunged it into Metatron's back, piercing his heart from behind.

Blue light immediately began pouring from the wound. With his last ounce of strength, in a single, quick movement he snapped Dean's neck, "you will fail," he screamed as a loud crash shook the colosseum, and the blinding blue light knocked Cas back several yards. 

When the light faded, Metatron was gone; a large black burn mark staining the marble floor in his absence. Cas sat up, rubbing his eyes. Birds were chirping again and the sun was out, as if nothing had ever happened, "D-Dean?" he croaked, his eyes locking on Dean's limp figure. He zapped over to where Dean was laying, not wanting to waste the time to run over, "Dean?" his voice cracked, "Wake up, Dean. We won," his voice was higher than usual, and his breathing was ragged.

Dean laid motionless on the ground, his eyes lidded and mouth gaping slightly. Cas knelt down and caressed Dean's cheek, "Dean?" he whispered, feeling a single tear trickle down his cheek. Dean was dead. Cas knew Dean was dead. But it just wasn't possible. He closed his eyes, "I'm so sorry, Dean," he breathed, covering his face with his hands, inhaling slowly to try collecting himself, "I'm so sorry."

After several minutes, Cas looked at Dean's lifeless body again. He swallowed hard, "what do I do?" he asked himself, feeling another round of tears, "Father...please...help me."

\---

"I can't believe you aren't listening to logic," Sam pleaded, "Gadreel, we can help you!"

"By using me and then killing me?" Gadreel poked Sam's chest with the blade. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to show Sam he meant business, "That won't work."

"And you think killing me is going to help matters?" Sam was fixated on the blade poking his chest, "You're a sad excuse for an angel," he added, trying to keep his voice even.

"I'll prove my worth," Gadreel pinned Sam against the wall and pressed the blade to his throat, "Metatron offers his forgiveness to all who side with him," he nicked Sam's skin, "except for the Winchesters who aren't worthy of Heaven." 

Sam winced as the blade pressed into his skin. He closed his eyes, waiting for the pain, but it never came. Instead, Gadreel yelled in agony and Sam could see a bright light behind his eyelids, followed by silence. Cautiously, he opened one eye, then the other. Gadreel was gone, and he was alone in the cabin. He exhaled in relief, slinking down the wall to sit on the floor.

"Ah, Moose. I knew you could handle it yourself," Crowley chirped as he strolled into the room, "nice work."

"I didn't do anything, he just screamed and there was a flash of light," Sam said, watching Crowley take a seat on the couch, "you think Dean and Cas killed Metatron?"

Crowley shrugged, "your guess is as good as mine, mate. I'm assuming the plan actually worked," he glanced out the window, "it's sunny again."

"How are they going to get back?" Sam asked, not ready to stand up yet. His heart was still racing from his encounter with Gadreel.

"They got into heaven, they'll figure it out," Crowley picked up his glass of scotch and took a sip, "shall we celebrate?" 

"Dean will be pissed that we started without him," Sam smiled, getting up, "but, it's not like we have anything to worry about right now."

"For once, you're right," Crowley handed the bottle of scotch to Sam, "all of Metatron's subjects seem to have been destroyed, so I'm assuming that bloody angel is nothing more than a pile of feathers now."

"What about Abaddon?" Sam asked, taking a swig straight from the bottle.

Crowley laughed wickedly, "you should have seen the little bitch's face before she exploded. When Gadreel showed up, I popped down to the pit, and she tried to corner me...but before she could overpower me, she literally blew up. It was brilliant." 

"Hm," Sam sat down next to Crowley, picking at the label on the bottle, "it's strange to be at the end," he looked at Crowley, "I guess we'll have to hunt you now."

"I'd like to see you try," Crowley mused, propping his feet up on the coffee table.

\---

Cas sat next to Dean's body for a long time, gently holding his cold, lifeless hand. He couldn't bring himself to move the corpse, or leave it alone. It was still Dean. Cas closed his eyes, praying in broken whispers, even though he knew it was in vain. God was dead, Metatron was dead and now it was just him. He was God.

"That's it!" Cas' eyes shot open and he let go of Dean's hand. He gently placed his hand over Dean's lifeless heart, closing his eyes once more to concentrate, "come on," he mumbled, feeling his healing energy tingle in the tips of his fingers. A soft, white light glowed in the palm of his hand, but it had no effect. Dean's body was still motionless. 

Cas swore loudly, "I did everything you told me! Everything!" he yelled, finally losing his temper, "I destroyed Metatron! I'm here! Why isn't this working!" he didn't know who he was screaming at, but screaming helped with the pain of losing the one other person who completed him, "I will never take the Throne, father! I'm not worthy if I can't keep one important person alive. I've failed. I'm not worthy of the Throne," his voice shook as he leaned down, pressing his forehead to Dean's chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt.

"And that is what separates you from the rest of my children," a soft, calming voice surprised Cas, "you have so much heart, Castiel."

Cas sat bolt upright, nearly falling backwards as he turned to face the source of the voice, "bring him back, Father," he said stone-faced, "please," he didn't care how God was still alive. He was here and Cas knew he could help Dean. He had to.

"In exchange for Dean Winchester, I must request something of you," God knelt down next to Cas, gently touching his forearm.

"Anything," Cas breathed, looking desperate.

"Your Grace," God said serenely, "it can save him, but you would be human forever."

Cas looked down at Dean, "my Grace won't change Dean, will it?" he asked, focused on Dean.

"Your Grace will heal Dean, and act as his soul," God explained, "I'm afraid Dean's soul is beyond salvage."

"Will he be the same Dean?" Cas asked again, looking at his Father.

God nodded, "yes, but you will be bound together until death."

"It doesn't matter. Save him, please," Cas whispered.

"You must promise to stay with him, Castiel," God said sternly.

"I'll do whatever it takes to save him," Cas turned to God, rolling up the sleeve of his shirt, "please, take my Grace. I'm ready, Father."

God smiled, "you're a good soul, my child. You are worthy," he gingerly pressed his index and middle finger to Cas' forearm, slowly pulling them away; a long string of blue light enveloping itself around his hand, "are you sure this is what you want?"

Cas looked at his Grace around his Father's fingers, then to Dean, "It's always been Dean," he said softly.

Without another word, God pressed his fingers into Dean's chest, the Grace swirled around his hand before disappearing into Dean, "I will transport you both back to Earth," he said standing up, "never lose faith, Castiel," was the last thing he said before Heaven melted around them and faded to white. They'd come so far, and it all came down to Cas' decision to give up his Grace to save Dean. It would always come down to this. The end of everything.

Or was it?


	20. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fate has an uncanny ability of taking forever to work itself out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the epilogue. The final piece of "Fate." There will be no more updates after this. 
> 
> Thank you so so so much for all of your support. What a roller coaster ride it's been. This is the first lengthy piece of writing I have ever finished, and I feel so accomplished. I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

When Cas opened his eyes, it was night time. A frigid wind nipped at his face as he looked around, "Dean?" he noticed the outline of Dean laying on the ground, "Dean!" he crawled over to him and shook his shoulder, "Dean?"

Dean inhaled sharply, as if he'd just emerged from underwater, "Cas?" he groaned, rolling on his back.

"Dean," Cas mouthed, his eyebrows shot up. The overwhelming joy Cas felt to hear Dean's voice again was indescribable. He could barely contain himself; he launched at Dean, tackling him and wrapping his arms and legs around him, hugging as tightly as his body would allow. The tears were back, but they were the happiest tears he'd ever cried.

"Shit, Cas," Dean wriggled in Cas' embrace, "come on, buddy, I can't breathe," he laughed, bumping a kiss on the top of Cas' head, "what's up with you? I was gone for like ten minutes. Where are we?" he asked, looking around.

Cas loosened his grip and sat up, straddling Dean, "what do you remember?"

"If you have to ask me that, I'm not sure I want to know what happened," Dean sat up and hugged Cas close to him, "it's freaking cold out here," he added, "we should find shelter."

"We're close to Gabriel's cabin," Cas said, nodding toward the tree line, "it's on the other side of those trees."

"Well zap us over there so we don't freeze," Dean said impatiently.

Cas got off of Dean and looked toward the trees, "I can't," he said quietly, toeing at a patch of weathered grass. 

"What? Why not?" Dean got up and walked over to Cas, "What happened?"

Cas shook his head, "I sacrificed my Grace," he folded his arms, shivering, "I don't miss the feeling of being cold," he added in a mumble.

"You're human?" Dean stared at Cas, "How did you sacrifice your Grace? What about Metatron?"

Cas looked at Dean, "Metatron is dead," he said quietly, holding his hand out for Dean to take, "come on, Dean. Let's get back to the cabin." 

The walked silently through the trees. Cas was holding Dean's hand tighter than necessary, but he was afraid to lose him again. After a painfully long walk in the cold, the light from the cabin pierced the darkness, "I wonder what they're up to in there," Dean mused, tugging Cas toward the house.

"Dean," Cas stopped on before they walked up the front stairs, "can I stay with you?"

Dean squeezed Cas' hand, "of course you can. I thought we already figured that out."

"I meant forever," Cas was wide-eyed.

Dean smirked, "the look. You're doing it again."

"Is it working?" Cas asked, a weak smile playing his lips.

"When doesn't it?" Dean laughed, "Come on, let's go inside."

"Wait," Cas pulled at Dean's hand. He wanted to tell Dean everything that had happened. How he gave up his Grace to bring Dean back, how he killed Metatron, how God showed up. There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't find the words.

"What?" Dean looked at the door to the cabin, then back to Cas.

"I," Cas smiled, "I'm just glad we're back."

"Me too, buddy," Dean pulled Cas up the steps and opened the door, "honey, I'm home," he called out.

Sam and Crowley looked up from the couch; Sam practiced lunged over the couch at them, "so?" he asked excitedly.

"Metatron is dead," Cas said softly, dropping Dean's hand, "it's over."

"What took you so long to get back?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.

Crowley got up and strolled over to the trio, "no mojo, Cas?" he asked smugly.

"Wait, your Grace is gone?" Sam looked confused, "What the hell happened up there?" 

"Victory with sacrifice," Cas said cryptically.

"Right," Crowley understood immediately, "Dean died, didn't he?" 

"Cas, did I die?" Dean asked, touching his hand to Cas' arm. 

Crowley looked from Sam to Dean, "I think that's my cue to leave. Have a wonderful evening, boys. It's been a real treat," he disappeared immediately.

"Sam, could you give us a minute?" Dean tugged Cas' sleeve and walked down the hall to their room. 

Cas followed a few steps behind, softly shutting the bedroom door behind him. He couldn't bring himself to look at Dean, "I thought you didn't want to know what happened," he said quietly.

"Yeah, but I didn't think I freaking died," Dean sat down on the edge of the bed and sighed, "was it Metatron?"

Cas automatically took a seat next to Dean and neatly folded his hands in his lap, "he was torturing you. I told him to stop, and stabbed him with the chisel," he sighed, looking down at his knees, "with the last of his strength he snapped your neck."

"That son of a bitch," Dean growled, clenching his fists.

"It's over, Dean," Cas draped one of his hands over Dean's fists, "we're both here now."

Dean's fists loosened, "how did you bring me back?" he asked, reaching behind him to grab a blanket with his free hand. He pulled it over his and Cas' shoulders.

"It wasn't me," Cas admitted sheepishly, "well, not entirely."

"Elaborate," Dean scooted closer to Cas, intrigued.

"When Metatron died, I was alone in Heaven with you," Cas winced at the memory, "I tried to revive you, but I couldn't. That's when I realized God wasn't dead."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, God's not dead?" Dean asked in disbelief, "I thought when the angel's fell..."

"God left Heaven because of Gadreel and Metatron. With both of them gone, he could return. And he did," Cas rested his head on Dean's shoulder, "I gave God my Grace and he used it to bring you back."

"You sacrificed your mojo for me?" Dean swallowed hard, "Why?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Cas sat up again and stared at Dean.

"No," Dean frowned, "I think it was stupid that you became human for me."

"I think it's stupid that you can't accept the fact that someone loves you," Cas mumbled, frowning at Dean, "I love you, Dean. That's why I did it and I don't regret it. I put you before myself because I love you," his expression softened, "in the end I realized that you were more important than anything else. I would have done anything to bring you back."

Dean felt his cheeks burning. He would have done the same for Cas. There was no doubt in his mind. He was being a selfish idiot for giving Cas crap for doing the same thing he would have done. Finally he sighed, defeated, "you're right."

Cas opened his mouth, prepared to argue, but cocked his head to the side, "I am?"

"I'm stupid for not seeing it before," Dean murmured, lacing his fingers with Cas', "you just did the same thing I would do if I was in your position. I know I said I loved you before," Dean locked eyes with Cas, "but I really do, man. I love you."

Cas smiled serenely, "I knew you'd figure it out eventually."

"It took me long enough," Dean chuckled,pressing a kiss to Cas' temple as he got up, letting the blanket fall over Cas' shoulders.

"Fate has an uncanny ability to take forever to work itself out," Cas hugged the blanket around himself, standing up.

"But in the end, I guess it all worked out how it was supposed to," Dean mused.

Cas nodded, "now what?"

"I think we deserve a vacation," Dean said, grinning, "a nice, long vacation. How does that sound, buddy?" 

Cas cozied up next to Dean, and kissed his shoulder, "I think I would like that."


End file.
